Cold Spell
by Phx
Summary: The Hardys face their deadliest and most cunning advesary mother nature after a plane crash leaves them stranded on the Arctic Tundra.
1. Chapter 1

**Cold Spell**

**Chapter 1**

_It's cold…the wind is dry and strong….Around them eternal daylight skewed their concept of time….Their shelter, a hole in the ground, was dark but it kept them from the winds…the cold and biting winds…._

_It's two in the morning of the first night…._

"Frank?"

"Yes, Joe?"

"Did you ever see the movie, _Alive_?"

"The one about the rugby team that crashed in the Andes?"

"Yeah, that one!"

"No."

"_Frank!"_

"I read the book."

"They ate the pilot."

"_Joe!"_

"What about the Donner Party…?"

"Joe."

"The Lord of the Flies?"

"Joe! Would you shut up! I'm trying to get some sleep!"

"Sorry."

"Frank?"

"Yeah?"

"What was the name of the movie with Tom Hanks and his ball, Wilson?"

"That's it kiddo, keep this up and I will put you on the menu."

"Sorry."

"Frank?"

"WHAT!"

"Do you really think we're going to get out of this?"

_A pause…heavier in the gloom…_

"Yes, I do, little brother."

"Frank?"

"For the love of God! What, Joe!"

"You still didn't tell me what the name of that movie was! And you know that's going to bug me all night!"

"_Castaway."_

"Thanks, Frank."

"You're welcome, Joe."

The second day was not much better.

It was cold but the wind had tamed down a bit.

The brothers had been lucky to find the small opening – probably an old burrow. Whose? Neither one was really anxious to find out. They just hoped the previous tenant didn't miss the view!

It had been twelve hours now since the small plane Frank had been flying suffered engine failure and crashed down somewhere over the Canadian arctic tundra.

Cold, desolate, barren, remote - not exactly the best place in the world to be stranded.

But the teenagers knew they couldn't dwell on the hopelessness of their situation, or else they'd never see Bayport again. This was going to be no cakewalk. The arctic is a dangerous place…even in late summer.

With no supplies, their condition was perilous, and their only real hope of survival was a quick rescue. Neither boy was prepared for a long-term 'extreme' camping trip. _Not like this_.

The night had been cold and they had taken it in shifts, waking each other every hour, as a hypothermic sleep was a real worry. They were lucky that the temperature over the night hadn't gone below freezing, but it was close….

And now as this new day dawned, more an extension of the night, and day prior to that, as the sun hung low in the sky twenty-four hours a day during the arctic summer - the boys took stock and didn't like what they saw….

"Is that all?"

"Yes Frank, that's all."

"What about your back pockets?"

"I emptied them first. That's where I had my pocket knife."

"You're sure?"

"I have nothing else. Would you prefer to check _yourself_?"

"Joe, how can you only have your pocket knife, wallet and a stick of chewing gum in your pockets?"

"Gee, sorry, big brother, I must have left the survival kit in my other pants! Yours are no better!"

"Well at least I have matches—"

"Yeah, speaking of which, why exactly do you have matches, anyway? You don't smoke!"

"I was a boy scout."

"So was I!"

"Then where are _your_ matches?"

"Shut up."

Between the two of them, the brothers had two pocket knives, two wallets, one pack of matches, one handkerchief, a set of keys, a whistle, a notebook, a dull pencil…and a stick of chewing gum.

And the front end of the small plane Frank had been flying.

However, it wasn't much help, as it had been too busted up for any of the equipment to work – the boys were actually incredibly lucky to be alive, with only a few minor injuries, the worst being a nasty gash on Frank's forehead, now bandaged with one of the sleeves from Joe's shirt.

The older boy had been knocked out on impact but, to his younger brother's immense relief, revived shortly afterwards.

The wings and tail had been broken off and were scattered for about a mile, along with the first aid and survival kits.

"Frank?"

"What?"

"I'm starved. Do you mind if I eat the gum?"

"Leave me half."

"It's a stick of chewing gum!"

"When I'm freezing my ass off Joe, every calorie counts! Now leave me half of the gum!"

"It's calorie free!"

"Yeah well, so is your head, kiddo. Actually, forget about leaving me half; just give it to me now!"

"_You don't trust me_?"

"Of course I trust you, Joe. I trust you with my life….However, with a half a stick of chewing gum? That's a different story."

Knowing how hard it would be for a rescue team to find them if they wandered around, the boys decided to make the burrow their home away from home, for now.

When it had started to get late the prior evening, they had considered using the plane for shelter, but it offered no protection from the wind, so when Joe accidentally stumbled onto the literal, _hole in the ground,_ Frank realized it would be better than staying in the plane – well, warmer at least. So they moved next door.

Tundra comes from the Finnish word for 'treeless plain,' and that presented its own difficulties when the boys set about starting a fire – they had no kindling of any type!

Frank told Joe to hang around 'home' while he went in search of kindling to make a fire. Foremost in the older brother's mind was that they needed this fire for more than just warmth.

It would be visible to any planes in the area, but also it would serve as a deterrent to large predators. The dark-haired boy knew their biggest threats were bears, wolves and wolverines. The other animals such as caribou and musk ox shouldn't be a problem; it wasn't rutting season. And he wasn't concerned at all about the smaller predators like the arctic fox, as they would only be a nuisance, not a threat, to two teenage boys.

Shivering slightly as a gust of wind cut through his jacket, he pulled up his coat collar and wished he had something warmer to wear. But then he chuckled, something warmer to wear would be low on his list if he could have what he wanted right now!

Surveying the boggy wet tundra area, his handsome face was marred with a frown. This really was one of the worst places to get stuck. The ground was a very barren rock-strewn wasteland.

The only good thing he could see at a glance was that they'd have no trouble finding drinking water, as little pockets of fresh water dotted the landscape. However, unless Joe scavenged something from the wreck, they had nothing to put the water in. And Frank knew that they really should boil the water first before they drank it, although being stranded where they were did have one advantage. Due to the harshness of the environment, there was less chance of there being anything in the water that would make them sick…or worse.

Sighing, he turned around and watched his brother for a few minutes as the blond-haired boy was seeing what they could use from the plane. So far, he'd pulled off the seat cushions and lining, and tossed them on the ground away from the wreck.

Frank's frown grew. Unlike his own coat, which was heavy and down-lined, the coat Joe had been wearing on the plane was thinner and didn't offer as much protection.

And as he watched the younger teen stop to put his mitten-clad hand over his nose for a moment before starting to haul the seat cushions towards their burrow, Frank realized they were going to have a real problem if it got much colder tonight than it had last night….And last night it had been so cold they had huddled together blowing on their hands – cold even through their thin mittens - and alternating between sleeping a little, being awakened, and praying for morning.

They needed to find the survival kit. In it there would be a blanket and some other stuff that might mean the difference between freezing to death and surviving. And like he had already told Joe the night before, _they were going to get out of this!_

The big problem was, like the rest of the plane, the kits were somewhere north of them, and Frank didn't relish the idea of setting off to look for them without some way of navigating. The last thing they needed right now was to become even more lost than they already were!

He'd managed to send out a distress signal before they crashed, but he had no idea how long it would take for searchers to find them.

Stopping to rub his head, which was aching no matter what he told Joe, Frank sighed. One of them was going to have to go in search of the kits – they had no choice.

Now all he had to do was convince his oft-times pig-headed brother that it should be him. With his warmer jacket, Frank knew he was better prepared for a trek across the barrens, particularly if he got stuck spending the night away.

But somehow he didn't think that Joe was going to see it that way.

"Oh well," he muttered, "No use putting off the inevitable." Tucking his hands under his armpits, Frank started back towards 'home' and prepared himself for the 'great debate.'

_Hardy versus Hardy, round one._


	2. Chapter 2

**Cold Spell**

**Chapter 2**

Seventeen-year-old Joe Hardy watched as his older brother walked towards him. He could tell by the look on Frank's face that he had something on his mind, and the younger boy knew that whatever it was, he wasn't going to like it.

Joe let the seat cushions he had been carrying drop to the ground just inside the burrow entrance. He figured if they lay on them it would be warmer than lying directly on the frozen earth.

As Frank got closer, Joe took in his tired, pale face and knew his head had to be hurting, even if he kept insisting otherwise. The blond-haired teen sincerely hoped his brother didn't have a concussion he was trying to conceal.

Frank would never know just how terrified he'd been when the plane finally stopped moving and Joe saw his brother's body, bleeding and unmoving, hanging lifelessly in his seat. For a few long moments, too long in Joe's mind, he'd thought Frank was dead…that he'd lost his older brother to the horrible plane crash!

It still made the younger boy shiver – this time from the intensity of the emotion and not the climate. He had screamed Frank's name over and over again as he fought his way from his own seat towards him, but the older boy hadn't even groaned.

_And the blood_….

Blinking hard, Joe sucked in a deep breath and then started coughing. The air was dry and felt like knives of ice being driven into his lungs.

"Don't take deep breaths," came the immediate reprimand.

_Like I haven't just figured that out_, Joe thought sarcastically, and then scolded himself. That kind of attitude wasn't going to help anything right now.

He wrapped his arms tightly around his chest in an effort to keep warm, and started moving again, unable to stay still for very long even when he wasn't freezing to death!

"We have a problem," Frank understated.

"Only one?" Joe couldn't help but quip. His good humor was freezing with the rest of his body.

Frank ignored him.

"One of us has to follow the debris trail. We need the emergency kit. Without it we won't last long."

Joe frowned; he could tell that it wasn't 'one of us', but that his brother had already decided it would be himself. Pursing his lips, he waited for Frank to continue. And he did.

"I think it'd be better if I went. My jacket is warmer than yours, and one of us should stay here and act like a homing beacon." Frank pulled out the whistle as he was speaking. "If I'm not back by bedtime, start blowing the whistle; it'll help me find you."

"You have this all figured out then?" Joe asked, the defiant flash in his eyes made Frank sigh.

_Here it comes_, the older boy thought, _Ding, ding, let the match begin_.

"It makes more sense for me to go, actually," Joe commented casually.

Frank raised an eyebrow in a textbook "Dad' move, and Joe continued, "Well, first: Yeah, your jacket is warmer than mine…but because of that, I should go. If I'm on the move, my body will be generating more heat than if I'm waiting around back here."

He paused to give his brother time to refute that. Frank didn't.

"Also, let's just assume that it gets late before I can get back, and the temperature drops again. Well at least I'll have the stuff from the kit to keep me warm, instead of trying to last the night by myself in the burrow. I hate to admit it, bro, but your body heat was the deciding factor last night." Joe looked away, a bit embarrassed by that small admittance. But it had been cold….

"_If_ you find it before then," Frank put in, and Joe shrugged.

"If I find it," Joe agreed, "But I stand as good a chance as you do…."

Frank didn't say anything. Joe continued, "My sense of direction is better…I'm younger…I'm stronger…"

The older boy started to argue, "Those are stupid reasons! What do you mean, you're stronger…your sense of direction is better? And what does age have to do with anything?"

"Frank," Joe said patiently, "I hate to point out the obvious, but you took a nasty blow to the head, big brother. And right now I don't think you're as up to the task as usual, that's all. It just makes more logical sense for the person who doesn't have a head injury to go, doesn't it?"

Frank didn't look convinced, and the younger boy knew his brother was just worried that something might happen.

Finally the dark-haired teen let out an exasperated sigh. Of all the reasons Joe had given, the only one that had any merit was the head injury argument!

"Take my coat," Frank said grudgingly and started to undo it, but Joe shook his head.

"No way. I'm going to have the kit stuff – you'll need this more than I will!"

"If you find it!" Frank said in exasperation, but Joe just rolled his eyes and smiled confidently.

"When I find it. Be the optimist, Frank, I think it'll look good on you!"

Still grinning, Joe stomped his feet and then noticed his brother's empty hands. "Did you find anything to make a fire with?"

Frank looked down in surprise – he'd completely forgotten that that's what he'd left 'home' for!

"Oh brother," he muttered as he turned and stalked away, "I think I just substantiated his whole argument!"

Behind him, Joe's laughter was infectious though, and he was chuckling to himself about it. _When_ they got home, he already knew this little episode was going to be a party favorite!

"See if you can find anything edible while you're gone!" Joe called after his brother, "I'm starved!"

Two hours later Frank came back with his arms full of what Joe could only describe as grass.

"What—" he started to ask, but Frank stopped him.

"Just give me a hand will you?"

Joe rushed forward and took some of the vegetation, only noticing then that there were two different kinds, moss and sticks.

He looked at his brother questioningly, and Frank sighed as he dropped his pile down on the ground. Joe followed suit.

Crouching down, Frank held up the moss. "Firewood," and then he held up the sticks. "Breakfast."

"You gotta be kidding!" Joe scoffed, "Frank, we can't eat sticks!"

"Do you have any other suggestions little brother? Because after scouring the area for the last two hours, this is the best I could find… except for berries and I had nothing to put them in!

Joe still didn't look convinced, and the older boy sighed, "The moss _will_ burn. Not as good or as long lasting as actual kindling, but it'll be a start. And if nothing else, it will make a nice smoky fire—"

"Signal fire," the younger boy put in, following his brother's logic.

"Yeah," Frank agreed, "and this other stuff," he indicated the 'sticks' which on closer inspection, Joe realized were actually young shoots, "is arctic willow. We can strip off the outer bark and eat the inner portion raw. And these leaves are one of the richest sources of vitamin C, containing almost seven to ten times more than an orange!"

Joe looked at his older brother in new awe. All he could say was, "Wow."

Frank blushed. "Too much time watching the Learning Channel," was all he said by way of explanation. And then he looked around to see what Joe had been up to while he'd been gone, and he was equally impressed.

Joe had stripped the leather from the seat cushions, and after laying the actual cushions in the burrow as beds, he'd used the leather to make a door at the entrance, anchoring it in place with large boulders that must have been a pain to move. But they were placed in such a way that they wouldn't have to worry about them falling on them, or sealing them in the hole.

The younger boy had also managed to twist and pound with a rock, a piece of the metal into something that resembled a wide shallow bowl that now contained water. He'd put the 'bowl' on a flat rock so it wouldn't tip over. _And_ he'd been berry picking….

Frank raised an eyebrow in surprise.

Joe shrugged. "Seemed like a good idea at the time. The red ones are okay, if I'm remembering right. I saw some mushrooms too, but I wasn't too sure about them."

"Good idea," Frank admitted, "I know some of the mushrooms are okay, but I can't remember which ones."

"Sticks and berries for breakfast," Joe mused, trying to lighten up the situation. "Food for a king. Now, what's say we start a fire. I'm dying of thirst here, but figured we should boil it first."

Nodding, Frank started his moss fire while Joe started stripping the bark from the willow shoots. They worked in silence, each one lost in thought.

Joe screwed up his face at the taste of the willow – the insides were a bit hard and bitter.

Frank saw the grimace and shrugged. "I guess it's too late in the summer to be very succulent."

As the water started to boil, Frank threw a handful of moss into it. Joe looked at him and the older boy sighed, "We need all the nutrients we can get."

Agreeing, Joe waited until after the brew had been boiling for a few minutes and then, hoping his mittens would provide some protection from the now boiling hot 'bowl,' he lifted it carefully and placed it on the ground next to the fire, hissing in pain as he did.

"You okay?" Frank asked as he watched Joe pull off his mittens and blow on his fingers.

"Yeah, just peachy," Joe growled, "burned my fingers, that's all!"

Frank shook his head but didn't say a word. If nothing else, this was proving to be quite a learning experience, all the way around.

After a few minutes, Joe put his mittens back on and sighed, "Sorry, I just thought my mitts would offer some protection."

"Well they did, obviously," Frank put in as he popped some berries into his mouth and then shivered, as they were a lot sourer than he'd been expecting, "or else you'd have dropped the water."

The younger boy stuck out his tongue and then shouted "Hey!" when a red berry was tossed at him. "Do you know how hard I had to work to get that berry!"

Frank just laughed at him and popped another one into his mouth.

"I guess I should start off now," Joe said a little later. He took a long drink from the now cooled 'bowl' before rising to his feet, screwing up his face at the 'special' flavor the moss added. "No use putting this off any longer than necessary."

Frank rose to stand beside his brother. He had a strong desire to go with him, but knew one of them needed to stay here. Their best chance of a rescue was someone spotting the wreckage.

He just hoped the survival kit wasn't too far away, and that Joe would be back within a short time. He didn't relish the idea of being separated in the best of situations, let alone in an environmentally hostile setting.

Pulling his brother into a tight hug, he chastised him, "You'd better be careful, Joe. Find the kit and then get your ass right back here. Heaven help you if I have to come looking for you!"

Joe knew his brother's gruffness came from concern, and he hugged him back. "Don't worry, big brother. I'll be back before you even know I'm gone!" And then pulling away, he quickly moved away from the camp.

It was hard enough saying good-bye to Frank with the very real threat of something bad happening hanging over them, so he cut it short. He needed to get out of here now, or else he'd never leave.

So singing loudly, he walked away… _you take the high road and I'll take the low road and I'll be in Scotland by morning…_

Frank watched him until he could no longer see or hear him anymore. And then sighing, he turned away.

"Keep up that singing, kiddo," he said to himself, "that'll keep the animals away."

As he tossed more moss on the fire, Frank heard his brother's voice again…._I'll be back before you even know I'm gone…._and

knew it wasn't true.

He already missed him.

Their camp…their 'home-away-from-home'…had suddenly become a very lonely place indeed.

_Hurry back, little brother_, he thought, _hurry back and be safe_.


	3. Chapter 3

**Cold Spell**

**Chapter 3**

Eighteen-year-old Frank Hardy went to work as soon as Joe left. He needed something to keep his mind and body occupied and figured surviving just might be it.

Taking his cue from Joe's 'bowl,' Frank realized that the piece of aluminum that his brother shaped had come from the back of one of the seats. So hastily clambering back into the wreck, he pulled an identical looking piece out of the back of the seat he'd been sitting in.

He repressed a shudder as memories of the last few moments of the crash overwhelmed him. Swallowing hard, the older boy quickly left the plane.

He'd never felt so sure that they were going to die before in his life. The last thing he had remembered before passing out was hearing his brother cry out, and his last thought was…_Ohmygod, I've killed us! _No, the engine failure wasn't his fault, but he was the pilot so he held himself responsible! And that was another reason why he had wanted to be the one who faced the trek.

Frank had been shocked to open his eyes and realize that not only was he still alive, but so was Joe; bloodied, and frantic, but still very much alive!

Even through his blurry vision and almost blinding headache, it didn't escape Frank's notice, the intense look of relief that flooded Joe's face when he opened his eyes. And that was why he hid just how miserable he'd been feeling from his younger brother.

Even today, he still had the remnants of his killer headache, but it was getting better, and he'd had enough concussions in his life to know that while he'd had a bad smack, he wasn't concussed.

He didn't want Joe worrying about him, so he told his brother that he was fine, although he knew the younger boy didn't buy it. But that at least let them focus on their situation – and a dire one it was.

Gaining a new respect for Joe's handicraft as Frank realized how much work was involved with shaping this metal, he finally gave an approving nod at his own 'bowl.' This one he'd use for berries.

Although he was really hoping he'd find some other varieties then the ones Joe had picked. They weren't poisonous, but boy, were they sour. Frank's mouth twitched just thinking about them.

"And he had the nerve to complain about my willow," he groused aloud for nothing more than something to break the silence. He found the tundra to be a quiet place, all things considered.

Sure, he heard the soft, melodious voice of the white swans and the whistling of their powerful wings as they beat in flight above him; chirping nearby could be anything from lemmings to weasels…Frank wasn't that well versed in rodent noises to know; and the ground beneath his feet squished or crunched depending on where he stepped. However, it still seemed eerily quiet to the young sleuth.

"Man," he grumbled, "Joe's only been gone an hour and I'm already talking to myself." He paused and mused, "I really hope he doesn't have to go far to find that kit." Sighing, he turned back to the task at hand, picking berries and gathering more moss.

Putting his berry cache just inside the burrow and lowering the door flap, to keep any freeloaders from helping themselves, Frank spread the moss out on the rocks to try and dry it out a bit. He knew dry moss would burn better than damp.

He'd already decided to take a little trip to a fair sized pond to the south of them, in the hopes of finding a better fuel supply from the longer grasses that should be growing around it.

Frank knew that if he bundled or twisted the vegetation into a large, solid mass then he'd get a slower burning, better fire. Moss was good for smoke and starting it, but he'd really prefer to use some longer grass or other scrub vegetation.

Moss just didn't twist that well!

So making sure his whistle was safely in his pocket and pulling his collar up against the incessant wind, Frank headed away from camp. He wasn't in a particular hurry, figuring it'd be late before Joe got back. And it wasn't like it was going to be getting dark for a while…weeks anyway, and Frank had no intention of being here when it did!

As he walked, his keen eyes kept a look out for anything else they could use as a food source. They really needed some sort of fish or meat, or else they'd quickly weaken, even on a diet of vegetation.

Although he was keeping his hopes up for a quick rescue, Frank refused to risk their survival on that – no, they needed to hope for the best but prepare for the worst.

Last year in geography they had spent some time talking about the arctic tundra; however, nothing he could remember helped them now! Especially about living food choices!

While he and Joe had numerable skills, neither of them were hunters, so the chance of taking down a caribou or musk ox – particularly without any weapon of any sorts – was nil.

He supposed if they came across a carcass, they might be able to scare off scavengers enough to take some meat, but that thought was even more unappetizing than Joe's berries. Things had not gotten that bad, yet!

Lemmings were reputed to be in abundance, but so far Frank had seen nothing to substantiate that. And even if it was true, again he had nothing catch them with.

Lemmings, hares and birds…supposedly plentiful in the land of the midnight sun, but Frank would need a snare of some sort if he had any hopes of adding them to the menu.

"Something to think about later," he decided as he stooped down to pick a handful of small, raspberry-like salmon-colored berries; he did remember them from the geography class because Callie Shaw, his long time girlfriend and fellow student in that class, kept commenting on how cute they were – _for a berry_!

"Hmmm..." he mused after eating the salmonberries, "Not bad."

Continuing on his way, he speculated about the pond. Although the landscape was speckled with many smaller ones, this one was the largest by far, and held out the most hope for the teen.

"There's got to be trout in that pond," Frank muttered as he walked. "I mean, this is this arctic; legend has it that this is the place where men are men, and fish are everywhere!"

He rubbed his hands together. "The problem is how to get the fish out of the pond and onto my dinner plate. Okay I don't exactly have a dinner plate, _yet,_ but you know what I mean.

"I could try spear fishing, I guess, but I need to find something sharp enough to use as a spear first. I don't want to risk losing my knife. But if…I mean _when…_Joe gets back with the survival kit, it should have some sort of fishing twine and at least one hook in it—"

And then he stopped and shook his head. "Frank my friend, you are losing it. Exactly who are you talking to?"

And then he started to laugh as he thought about his brother.

"If Joe hears me, he's bound to be buying me my own soccer ball!" he quipped as he thought about the movie _Castaway_.

He was still chuckling at that thought five minutes later when he got near enough to the pond to see that it was lined with thick, tall cotton grass, and more willow.

Making his way to the pond's edge, he peered into the crystal cold waters and shivered at the distorted reflection peering back. The wind chopped the water too much to tell if there was an abundance of fish or not.

"I've only been here for twenty-four hours," he commented, running a hand across his face, "and I'm already beginning to look like the madman of the north!"

Grinning, he became serious as he looked around at the vegetation and sighed. The cotton grass wouldn't be much better to burn than the moss, but at least they had a good supply of arctic willow.

And then he started to laugh, a chuckle at first, but then he was doubled over, howling. "I can't believe it…" he roared as the tears rolled down his mirthful face, "willow is wood! Oh my God, Joe was right….I'm not thinking right at all!"

The arctic willow was a tree…a small one, but a tree nevertheless!

Frank shook his head in disbelief! Joe had even tossed the bark he'd peeled from their 'breakfast' into the fire, and it hadn't dawned on him!

"Oh brother," he said, wiping his eyes and gaining control of himself, "wait until I tell Joe. He's never going to let me live this down….I'm the one who's supposed to think up this kind of stuff!"

Thinking of his brother made him look back down at his watch and sigh. Joe had been gone almost four hours now, and he wondered how he was making out.

The wind was starting to pick up again, and Frank hoped his brother was back before it got much worse.

Taking out his pocket knife, he began hacking off longer pieces of willow to take back with him. He figured the cotton grass might be useful to help bundle it if he didn't make the bundles too big.

An hour later, he was satisfied with his cache and decided to head back to camp.

Unbeknownst to him, he was being watched….


	4. Chapter 4

**Cold Spell**

**Chapter 4**

"I am really beginning to hate this place," Joe groused an hour later. He was getting exhausted from navigating the uneven tundra terrain, a horrid wasteland that afforded him very little progress and was even less accommodating!

He now understood why Frank, even after a return trip of two hours, hadn't actually gone very far from camp earlier that morning when he went looking for firewood.

At first glance the ground appeared level but it wasn't.

The rocky surface soil had thawed under the constant sun to varying depths. Joe would take one step and he'd be fine, and then the very next would sink him ankle deep - and even knee deep on a couple of occasions - in bog; wet, cold, miserable bog!

Arctic willow overhung cracks that had been formed by the constant freezing and thawing of the ground - a twisted or broken ankle just waiting to happen, the teen had also found out the hard way.

He was just lucky the insulated boots he was wearing were waterproof hiking boots and had saved his ankle, but unfortunately the knee deep excursions into the bog had left him wet from the ankle up to his knees. And that, he was paying for!

His eyes strained as they scoured safe paths for his feet. A couple of times he'd stopped to rest on a large flat rock to take stock of things, and he didn't really like what he saw, as he was making far less progress than he'd been hoping….The tundra just stretched _forever_ without any signs of an aircraft!

The wind cut through his jacket, and he now regretted not taking Frank's when he offered it, but he hadn't expected things to be like this. He was hoping that he'd keep up a good pace, and that would generate enough heat to compensate for the wind chill, but he was wrong.

_At least Frank would have had the refuge of the burrow…. _

And if the wind increased, dipping the temperatures to below freezing, the boy knew he would have some serious problems – he needed to find those kits, and soon!

Stopping to get his bearings again, Joe looked down at his wristwatch and sighed dejectedly. A birthday gift from his father, the watch was not only waterproof and had a little alarm but it also had a built-in compass! The only problem was, they were so close to the magnetic North pole that Joe couldn't trust the readings. So all he could do was use the watch for time…and use the sun for direction.

Trying to keep his heading as northerly as possible, the teenager rubbed his forehead absently as he tried to ignore his body's plaintive pleas for food. He was hungrier than he cared to admit, the breakfast of 'sticks' and berries a distant memory, and he scanned the area for something else to eat.

A natural athlete, he had a high metabolism which required almost constant fueling; and it didn't like having gone almost twenty-four hours with little in the way of sustenance.

Joe had hoped to find the survival kit by now, knowing it would contain packets of high energy food – probably granola or protein bars. But as the minutes stretched into hours, and his progress was painstakingly slow, the realization that he might have to spend the night without it was becoming very real.

Shivering as a gust of wind blew through him, intensified by his wet legs and sweat dampened clothing, the teen was frustrated. He couldn't believe this was happening!

It was Sunday afternoon! He and Frank should have been back at home right now, with their biggest worries concerning sun block usage at the beach….But no, they were stranded in a cold, hostile place that was anything but Bayport!

"Should have waited for a commercial flight," he sighed as he absently kicked a small stone out of his way. But like Frank, he'd been anxious to get home to see everyone; Vanessa Bender in particular, so had thought it was a great idea when their father gave them the go-ahead to rent a small plane, after an overbooked flight would have delayed them two extra days.

They'd puddle-jump to Canada and then connect with their commercial flight from Calgary to Bayport. But things didn't quite work out that way….

The only reason why either boy was anywhere near dressed for the weather was that they had spent the last month near Qaanaaq, Greenland, visiting old friends of the family, at the US airbase at Thule, before heading home to spend the remainder of their summer holiday lazing around.

But while the younger boy had immediately ditched his winter parka for a lighter jacket for flight comfort, Frank had kept his on.

Joe was just thankful for two things: first, that he hadn't traded his insulated hiking boots for sneakers, like he'd been planning on doing; and secondly, that Frank didn't say 'I told you so,' after they crashed and realized Joe's jacket disadvantage.

But to his older brother's credit, Frank had said nothing about it, except when he tried to use 'coat-logic' in their 'debate', probably because his earlier remark before they had taken off, when he saw Joe put on his lighter jacket of "_What are you going to do if we have to make an emergency landing?_" was now about as foreboding as Joe's response, _"Freeze."_

The blond teen repressed a shiver – he should have listened to his brother.

Two hours later, things were getting a bit better walking-wise. Joe had become very good at reading the terrain and hadn't gotten wet in a while!

The wind was getting stronger now, though, and Joe felt it slice through his body as if he was wearing nothing. He picked up the pace – if he didn't find those kits soon, he was going to have very serious problems….

Stopping every now and then when he found some edible berries, Joe was heartened when he finally started to see twisted pieces of metal, and other debris indicating he was close to the ruptured section of the plane.

"Yahoo!" he cried out, sure the survival and first aid kits were nearby.

His voice resounded loudly across the barrens as he turned his face away from the biting wind.

And that's when he noticed that he wasn't alone!

Standing about 150 yards behind him was a large grey wolf!

"Oh crap," Joe whispered, suddenly feeling very exposed and very palatable.

The male wolf was large, standing about 30 inches at the shoulder – four inches taller than a large German Shepherd – and weighing close to 175 lbs.

"Nice doggy," Joe said, slowly backing away from the large predator.

The wolf, mostly white with grey streaking his fur, watched him with something akin to curiosity. The teen had no way of knowing, but he was the first human this animal had ever seen, and it was not quite sure what to make of Joe yet.

Still backing up, Joe's eyes were firmly fixed on the wolf and he wasn't watching where he was going!

His foot sunk into a bog spot and he toppled backwards, landing hard on his butt!

"Yeow!" he howled as he quickly regained his feet and rubbed his sore bottom. Glaring at the wolf, which had done nothing during this display, he quipped, "Now see what you made me do! Shoo! Go away and find something else to eat tonight! Trust me, _Joe Hardy does not taste like chicken_!"

The wolf continued to watch him, eerily still.

"Fine, but I feel it's only fair to warn you…I know karate!" at which he went into a stance, but then grimaced as his body did smart a bit.

Putting his leg back to the ground gingerly, he muttered, "And judo, and a lot of other martial arts type words!"

Encouraged by the canid's apparent intention not to eat him, yet, Joe went back to the task at hand, finding the kits, although he did keep a very close eye on his 'tail.'

Although it had only been about four hours since Joe left the camp, he felt like it was an eternity ago that he'd said good-bye to his brother.

Cold, wet, exhausted and lonely, he was beginning to feel like he was the only person left on the face of the planet…him and 'Pup,' as he'd nicknamed the wolf.

The animal continued to follow him, keeping about the same distance away.

Joe knew that wolves were pack animals, and he wondered where the rest of this animal's 'family' were. Every few moments, he would whip his head around just to make sure he wasn't being stalked, but so far, the only wolf he'd seen was Pup.

"So Pup," he said as he crested the top of small knoll, "You didn't happen to have seen a plane around here anywhere did you? It's kind of white and all broken up—"

His words dropped off… as there it was! About 200 yards north of him!

It was the tail end of their plane!


	5. Chapter 5

**Cold Spell**

**Chapter 5**

It was seven p.m. by the time Frank got back to the camp, and he was exhausted.

The walk to and from the pond, although not really that far, had worn his hungry body out more than he'd expected, and he wondered how his brother was doing. Joe had a lot further to walk on this disagreeable terrain.

For one brief moment he pictured the blond teen stepping into a deep crevice and breaking his leg or something, but he hastily shoved those thoughts from his mind. He needed to give his younger brother a little more credit than that!

If he didn't, Frank would just go mad with worry.

_Joe will be okay_, that's the only thought that he'd allow. He wasn't too concerned about his own safety, as he had the burrow to hunker down in, and it would be even warmer tonight with the addition of Joe's makeshift door.

Glancing at his watch once again, Frank's dark brown eyes scanned the horizons looking for any sign of a blond head and brown bomber jacket, but he saw nothing. Sighing, he hoped Joe would be back soon, as he'd been gone almost seven hours now…,

Fingering the small whistle safely nestled in his parka pocket, Frank resolved to give his brother another three hours, max, and then he'd start tooting on the whistle.

Scratching the 'bandage' on his head, the older boy then decided he needed to take care of it; grimacing as he thought back to a bloodied face adding to the madman's reflection in the pond!

Knowing that it would be easier to clean away the blood with warm water, Frank set about relighting the fire. However the gusting winds kept blowing the matches out, and after he'd lost two to the wind, and not wanting to waste any more, he realized he'd just have to use cold water.

Sighing, he took a 'bowl' of water into the burrow, placed it on the ground and then sat down on one of the seat cushions. Carefully unwrapping the improvised bandage from his head, the teen inspected it to see how badly he'd been bleeding.

The bandage was actually one of the sleeves from Joe's shirt, hastily hacked off to dress the injury. This reminded Frank again that his brother was severely disadvantaged, clothing-wise, and he absently hoped that Joe found his own parka while looking for the kits.

The younger teen had tossed it into the back of the plane in exchange for his bomber jacket before they left Qaanaaq.

If not, then he'd insist they switch sweaters when Joe got back – at least Frank's sweater had two sleeves!

There was a fair amount of blood on the bandage but Frank wasn't too concerned, as he knew that scalp injuries did tend to bleed a lot as the blood vessels are close to the surface; the blood loss was not necessarily in relationship to the extent of the injury. Besides which, he was feeling a lot better, his headache having almost completely gone now.

Taking off his watch, Frank flipped it over and used the metallic back to get a glimpse of the revealed wound. The image was distorted and required quite a bit of handling to get a half decent view, but in the end he could see that the gash, while a couple inches in length, wasn't deep…just bloody.

So soaking the clean end of the bandage in the water, Frank started to carefully pat at the blood, intent on cleaning it up, and then gasped and swore a bit colorfully when the cold cut right through him.

Sure, he knew the water was going to be cold…he just had no idea exactly _how_ cold, especially on an open wound!

Hissing from a combination of cold and pain, Frank continued diligently, and was shivering by the time he was satisfied that he'd done the best he could. The water in the bowl was tinged pink now, but his face and cut were much cleaner, and he'd been relieved to see that the cut had scabbed over and wasn't still bleeding.

Being careful to toss the water away from the burrow, Frank quickly scurried back inside, letting the flaps drop down behind him. The wind was so strong and biting now, he didn't want to be outside any longer than he needed to be!

Sitting in the semi-gloom of the lair, the boy closed his eyes and let out a weary sigh. He was hungry, tired and worried. He tried to distract himself by thinking about anything but being stranded in the middle of nowhere or about his brother. There was nothing he could do about either right now.

The trip to Greenland had been great.

Of course their friends – particularly the girlfriends - thought they were nuts to be going somewhere with ice and snow when they could be home enjoying a fantastic Bayport summer, particularly the bikini parts! But never ones to turn down a chance for an adventure, both Frank and Joe had enthusiastically accepted the invitation to visit.

Major Norman Fields had gone to school with their father, and he and Fenton had stayed close over the years. A closeness forever cemented when the investigator tracked down the man who had murdered Norman's wife fifteen years earlier.

Norman had been devastated and left to raise two young sons. But it was only thanks to Fenton, he had gotten that privilege!

In the beginning the young Air Force pilot had been the number one suspect. And it was only when his friend stepped in and started his own investigation that he was cleared and the real murderer was caught.

An ex-boyfriend, of all stereotypical things!

So every couple of years they tried to get together, and this was one of them. Fenton had gone to Greenland with his sons but come back a week earlier to help Sam tie up a case.

The brothers had followed a week later…or had tried to.

Glancing down at his watch again, Frank decided he'd try to catch a few hours' sleep. If Joe wasn't back by the time he woke up, he'd start signaling, although as he heard the wind whistling outside the burrow, he doubted his brother would ever hear the sound.

Deep down, he was hoping that Joe had found the rest of the aircraft and had decided to stay there for the night. He'd rather that thought than the idea that his younger brother might be out there somewhere, trying to make his way back in this wind storm.

But regardless, Frank would still signal. He'd _never_ take the chance that he was wrong….

Pulling his parka hood up over his head, the teen lay down on the cushions and wrapped his arms tightly around his body. Closing his eyes again, he quickly drifted off with the sound of the wind singing him to sleep.

_Joe was running…but no matter how fast he ran, he would never be able to run fast enough…._

_Frank ran towards his brother…but he would never get there in time…._

_Screaming in horror, he could only watch….NOOOO!_

_Faster legs, faster, Frank commanded….He had to try…._

_Joe was getting closer…just a little bit further…._

_NOOOO!_

_He was not fast enough…._

_Frank heard his brother's scream…a long piercing sound that cut right through his heart…_

_And then the blood._

Bolting up, Frank panted, "What the hell—" His voice cut off as he heard it again.

It was Joe's scream!

Not fully to his senses yet, and his heart pounding from the intensity of the nightmare, the older boy lurched towards the burrow opening and then outside, half expecting to see his brother's body writhing in agony….

But he didn't.

He didn't see anything….

And then he heard it again – Joe's scream from his nightmare.

However, as his muddled mind cleared, he recognized the sound for what it really was.

Not his brother…thankfully.

But a new nightmare nonetheless.

Wolves.


	6. Chapter 6

**Cold Spell**

**Chapter 6**

Joe was so excited he ran the last few yards towards the wreckage, ever mindful of the terrain.

"WAHOO!" he shouted as he did a little victory dance.

The wolf's ears twitched, but that was the only acknowledgment he made to the boy's little display.

The blond teen looked at his audience and laughed, "Bet you didn't know this boy had it in him, now did you?"

Ignoring the canine for now, Joe started to survey the wreckage and then his face lit up… _could it be_?

It was!

A couple of feet away from the main tail section, in a bright orange knapsack, was the survival kit. Joe would have known what it was right away…even without the words SURVIVAL KIT stenciled in English on the front!

"Little brother does good!" Joe congratulated himself as he crouched down and undid the front flap. Satisfied that it hadn't been pilfered, the teen lowered the flap and then hoisted the bag onto his shoulder.

"Crikey, what's in this thing?" he grunted, surprised by its weight.

The wolf just watched him.

Still muttering a couple more expletives as he adjusted the pack on his shoulder, Joe decided to see if anything else had survived the crash, like their luggage, and more specifically, his winter parka!

An hour later, he was pleased with his findings. In addition to the survival kit, which he ended up checking a bit more thoroughly to make sure it also contained a small first aid kit, when he couldn't find a larger one anywhere, he'd also found both his and Frank's duffle bags.

Surprisingly enough, the sturdy black bags were still in one piece…but still no parka….

Excitedly, Joe tore through his duffle, extracting his warmest sweater and dry pants before quickly changing into them, emitting some inventive words during the brief period that his torso was exposed to the brisk, dry winds.

"Now Pup, we _are_ in business," the blond teen quipped; heartened by the warmer clothing. "You know what they say, 'it's not the heat, it's the humidity that'll get ya'!"

Chuckling at his own joke, Joe surveyed the area for something large enough to use as a sled to pull the bags back across the tundra. He'd never be able to carry the three of them by himself.

His eyes lit on one of the doors which had been ripped off and thrown to the side about 50 feet from the main section.

"Hmmm, that just might work," he speculated, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "Yeah, in fact it will work!"

Enthused by the idea that he'd found his 'sled' and could get on his way back to the burrow, Joe knelt down by the Survival Kit again and began to rummage through it. He was sure there'd be some sort of nylon rope in it…and there was.

His eyebrows rose briefly as he saw some of the other stuff in the kit, and he grinned, already imagining his brother's reaction. It was obvious that this kit had been used and re-supplied on more than one occasion…and not necessarily with the same stuff that had been taken out!

A particularly strong gust of wind almost bowled him over, and as Joe started to stand up, his eyes widened in alarm as something metallic and wind-born, swept towards him!

Throwing up his hands to protect his face, he wasn't quick enough and was struck, hard!

The last thing he saw as he crumpled to the ground was the wolf slowly approaching him!

Sniffing the boy cautiously, the large animal snorted softly and then started to move away again. He had no concern about this creature…only curiosity.

The human was interesting to watch, as he didn't behave like any other animal the wolf had ever encountered.

Pausing, the large canid looked sharply to the side, his ears twitching - listening - and then with one more glance at the unconscious teen, it retreated back to its looking post and waited….

Moaning softly, Joe opened his eyes and blinked. The bright sky above him made him shut them again, as his hand moved towards his forehead and the lump that he knew was there.

"Wha' got me?" he asked thickly, wincing as his mittened fingers brushed the bump. "OW!"

Forcing his eyes open again, he squinted against the brightness and then turned his head slowly – where was the wolf?

"Nice to see you care," he muttered as he saw the predator back where he always was, about 150 feet away. The wolf was sitting and watching him.

Slowly, as his head was pounding, Joe sat up and then leaned forward, holding his aching head in his hands.

_Not good, Hardy_, he chastised, as he thought about the 'sled' he needed to drag and the long way back to camp; a distance that grew infinitesimally with each throb in his forehead.

Looking down at his mittens, Joe was relieved not to see any blood, but as he tried to stand up and wobbled, before falling back down on his butt, it was painfully apparent that he was in no shape to go anywhere just yet.

"Crap!" he growled in frustration; he needed to fasten the rope to the plane door, put the three bags on it, and then tow it back to Frank as soon as possible!

Joe really did not want to spend any more time away than he had to.

So stubbornly, he forced his legs under him and tried to stand again, this time more slowly…and then staggered towards the plane door, dragging the rope behind him.

The strong winds played havoc with what little balance he had, and the teen imagined that he was putting out a bit extra on his public entertainment value right now, if anyone other than a wolf was watching him, as he weaved, sometimes one foot forward and two feet backwards!

If Frank had been there, he would have pointed out to Joe that he was in no shape to be even _thinking_ about trying to come back…let alone during a wind storm….But he wasn't, and Joe was pugnaciously determined – he had to get back to camp.

With painstaking slowness, Joe secured the rope to the door. He had a lot of trouble tying a decent knot for some reason, and after ten minutes and a couple of angry kicks at the door, he finally got something tied that would hold.

Satisfied, he lurched back to where he'd left the bags and picked up the Survival kit first, grunting and almost dropping to his knee as the weight felt leaden now. But refusing to give in, and his stubbornness on overdrive, Joe made it back to the 'sled' and then back and forth two more times.

It never occurred to him until much later that he should have just towed his 'sled' to the pile!

Finally, having loaded the three bags onto the door, Joe slumped down against it to catch his breath and take a few minutes' rest – he was worn out.

"You're not really a Husky, by chance are you?" he muttered tiredly to the wolf.

The animal blinked at him.

"Didn't think so," Joe managed as he closed his eyes. He'd just shut them for a few minutes to see if he could get the drums to stop playing in his head.

But a couple of minutes were all it took, and the exhausted boy drifted into a heavy sleep, wrapping his arms around his body and tucking his face in against the warm fur collar on his jacket…the wind was cold.

The wolf watched the sleeping boy. This time he didn't come down to sniff him – he knew his scent.

After about two hours, his ears pricked up again and he stood up. He glanced to the south and listened.

He could hear them with no problem – a pack, four or five members only, from the chorus he was listening to. They sang and he resisted the urge to join them.

Their song was of hunger and sadness, and this wolf picked up their story as easily as if it was being told in words.

The pack, once strong had dwindled down to its hardiest members. The lemmings were few and the great caribou herds had not come down yet…the canid's were desperate…_and hopeful_….

They were on the hunt….

The wolf glanced back at the sleeping teen. He saw the boy twitch in his sleep but he didn't wake. His exhaustion drowned out the howling.

Tuning again to his brethren's song, the animal listened until it died off in a series of yelps.

Turning away, he lay down and rested an intelligent head on his forelegs – there was another, like this one that he watched…. and it was prey.


	7. Chapter 7

**Cold Spell**

**Chapter 7**

Frank spent a miserable night, and by morning he was exhausted and his lips were chapped. He'd starting tooting on the whistle at five minute intervals in case his brother was within hearing distance. Each blast was about a minute in duration – enough time to give Joe a new bearing, if he needed one.

The wolves had unnerved him at first, but once they stopped howling, he didn't hear anything from them and hoped they moved on. He knew that by nature, the large predators were shy around humans but he wasn't sure if that included tundra wolves that probably had not seen very many people before – but he was hoping!

The teen was also counting on this time of year with having provided them with enough food sources not to give _him_ much thought – that was what he was hoping, anyway.

Of course he had no way of knowing just how wrong he was….

His other thought, that maybe the wolves had moved on after Joe, was one that he quickly dismissed. _Can't be thinking like that_, he scolded himself as he stood outside the burrow and looked around.

The wind had died down overnight, and in a rapid twist of tundra weather, the temperature had risen, and with it came a thick fog bank that enveloped the barrens like a heavy gray blanket.

Frank took off his grey parka and laid it inside the lair entrance. His thick woolen sweater provided him with ample warmth now, maybe even too much if he did anything today more strenuous than picking berries or boiling water.

Sighing, he looked down at the fire pit and decided to get it started after he signaled again. He was feeling the beginning of a lightheaded hunger headache.

Taking out the whistle, he gave another minute-long toot, licking his lips afterwards and hoping the first aid kit – when it got here – had lip balm!

He didn't know whether to hope his brother could hear him or not.

The selfish part of him hung onto the idea that Joe was on his way back at this very moment, while the responsible part of him prayed he wasn't, and that the younger boy had stayed wherever he'd bunked down for the night, instead of risking getting loss in this pea soup!

"For the night," Frank said sarcastically, his voice loud and foreign-sounding in the early grey morning, "that would insinuate darkness…a change from the daytime even—" he stopped his rant before it got any further.

"Man this twenty-four day is hard on the nerves!" And it was; he'd sat awake all night in the semi-gloom of his 'house,' poking his head out long enough to signal, and then going back in. And although his watch counted off the mid-night hours, his mind found it hard to digest. How could it be the same at three in the morning as three in the afternoon?

Frank knew it was just the strain beginning to show. They'd only been here two nights and he was already beginning to feel a growing agitation at the lack of progress of anything!

At least Joe was doing _something!_

An hour later, after he successfully revived the fire, and ate as many berries and arctic willow as his stomach could handle, Frank was feeling a bit better, and his mind turned to one of the problems at hand – fishing!

That pond had fish in it, he was sure of it. He just needed some way to get the fish out of the pond and onto his food chain.

As he thought about the problem, his eyes wandered over the front end wreckage and he shuddered again. Frank really had no idea how in the world they had survived the crash – they should have been dead!

It was incredibly lucky that the only plane that had been available on such short notice was actually larger than the small Cessnas that the teen usually flew – more a mid-sized plane than anything. If it had been any smaller Frank knew they wouldn't have survived at all.

And that was another thing bugging him.

The teen really wished he knew what had happened. The only thing he was sure was that it wasn't pilot error or distraction - Joe wasn't even sitting beside him at the time!

Frank was a very conscientious pilot and paid the utmost detail to everything! Joe, not a huge fan of flying at the best of times, had been dozing on a passenger seat a little behind Frank just before the engine stalled.

Normally his brother sat beside him, but as Frank looked at what was left of the pilot and co-pilot seats right now, he was thankful that Joe had decided there was more room behind him for stretching out. The whole co-pilot section of the plane was smashed almost completely into the ground. Joe would have been killed instantly.

He vaguely wondered how hard it was going to be to get his brother back in a plane now, as he never liked it much before, and only flew because he had to.

As Frank mused about that for a couple more moments, he looked at where he himself had been sitting, amazed by his own survival.

"Can't think about it," he thought, "it didn't happen and we're both all right. Now, time to focus on fishing."

And then he grinned – _he had an epiphany_!

Humming to himself, he headed towards the front end of the plane and began tugging on the various wires he saw. Pretty soon he had a couple of pieces that he thought might do the trick.

Stripping back the plastic coating a couple of inches, he exposed the actual wire. Intertwining a couple of pieces of the exposed wire together, he made it stiff and then bent it up.

Holding up his handiwork, the dark hair boy grinned and proudly announced, "Voila! One fishing hook, _sloppily tied_!"

Taking another minute to stop and signal for his brother again, Frank grabbed a handful of berries for bait, and started his trek towards the pond. It was foggy but he knew exactly where he was going!

With him he also took extra wire – in case he needed to make another hook, and also, in an optimistic hope that he could use them to string his catch on!

The teen was almost drooling at the thought of fresh fish – trout, most likely!

Three hours later, he was not as impressed. If there were any fish in that pond _at all_, they didn't like berries! He understood that fishing took a great deal of patience but this was ridiculous!

Grumbling, he pulled his line back in and frowned. Now what?

The only thing exciting that had happened since sitting down here hours earlier, was that he'd had a chance to become acquainted with yet another aspect of tundra wildlife – insects!

As he absently kept up a constant swatting action with one hand and jiggling the fishing 'line' with the other, he realized that the wind did have one advantage – it kept these little blood suckers away!

And then he got another idea….

Twenty minutes later, sweating heavily and out of breath, Frank proudly changed the bait on his hook to one he was sure the trout would have a hard time saying no to – a small grasshopper!

"Oh little grasshopper," he cooed to the insect before dropping the line back into the water, "You were a worthy foe. Seldom have I met such a flighty adversary…or one so charmingly green!"

Chuckling at the memory of the 'hunt,' Frank was sure he'd made quite a spectacle of himself trying to catch this one insect, and he was only too happy his brother wasn't here to witness it…but if he caught a fish, it would be more then worth it!

And then he grinned; if Joe had been here, he'd have gotten him to be the bug catcher!

"Now to do some serious fishing," he quipped. "Enough practice for the Frank-ster."

Fifteen minutes later, he got a bite….

Barely daring to breathe, Frank slowly worked the fish towards the edge of the pond – he was terrified he'd lose it when he was so close….

He could already smell the fish sizzling over the fire…and his mouth watered.

Exhaling loudly, Frank finally got the wriggling fish out of the water, the whole time praying the 'hook' didn't bend. He let out a wild shout as the fish dropped safely onto the ground – a good lunch assured. "YAHOO! CITY BOY DOES GOOD! WHO'S THE MAN?"

And then he heard a loud snort behind him and turning slowly, he froze.

"Oh crap," he whispered, "I think I preferred the wolves…"

Lumbering towards him, grunting and snorting as it did, was a huge brown grizzly bear. And that bear had his eyes firmly fixed on the wriggling fish at Frank's feet!


	8. Chapter 8

**Cold Spell**

**Chapter 8**

Joe slowly opened his eyes, blinked and looked around. Glancing down at his watch he was surprised to see that it had only been an hour since he had fallen asleep.

"Not too bad, I guess, since I only intended to close my eyes for a moment," he grumbled, forcing himself into a sitting position and wincing a bit, although his head was feeling much better. In fact, he actually felt pretty good considering he hadn't been asleep very long. "An hour lost…could be worse."

He glanced over at the wolf, and the carnivore yawned and stretched as it stood up. "You could have woke me, you know! I didn't mean to fall asleep—"

And then he paused and looked around – something wasn't right….

"Uh, Pup," he started slowly, "Where'd this fog come from?" His alarm grew as he realized his clothes were very damp, and his blond hair was plastered to his forehead in a very unflattering fashion.

Confused, he stood up. This didn't make sense! The last time he'd checked his watch it was seven…but if it was only eight now, then how'd he get so damp in only one hour?

And he'd had enough head injuries to know that how he was feeling now, was a lot better than one hour of sleep normally made you feel….

Joe's heart gave an unsettled lurch – was it possible he had actually slept over twelve hours and it was eight in the morning instead of eight in the evening?

Wildly, he whipped his head around but could tell nothing from the gloomy mist that hung over him.

His watch had an AM/PM setting but it hadn't been working since they got to Greenland. Not a big deal then; Joe had decided to wait until he got back to Bayport to get it fixed – the setting just didn't move. It gave all times as a PM time!

But now it had become extremely important to the stranded boy. He had no idea which day this was, or how long he'd been gone from camp now; he became increasingly agitated, not knowing whether it was day or night!

What if he had actually passed out, instead of being asleep, and been unconscious for longer than twelve hours? Was it possible that he'd been out of it for more than twenty-four?

_Exactly how long had he been gone?_

Joe was starting to panic. For some reason, it terrified him not to know what day it was. The time he knew…just not the day.

And then he took a couple of deep breaths and slowly let them out. "Whoa, big fella," he said shakily, "What's with the hysterics?….It's only time…nothing more, nothing less. It doesn't matter. The only thing that matters is getting this stuff back to Frank!"

Brave words. It took him a few minutes to put away the surge of panic and convince himself of that. His nerves were shot – that's all he knew – stretched to a taut limit by this never-ending day, and loneliness.

Joe was a people person – he needed to be around people, or at least one person, Frank. And the incessant solitude and total helplessness of their situation was starting to wear him down, no matter how much he tried to kid himself.

In fact, if it wasn't for the wolf – and he shot him a look to make sure he was still there – he was sure he'd have lost it completely. He craved company and was willing to take it any way he could.

Joe wondered how Frank was doing by himself. But then he sighed. His big brother was the strongest person he knew – he didn't need anyone. But even as Joe was thinking it, he knew it wasn't true.

Frank's emotional needs were just different than his, and the older boy dealt with things in his own way. He tended to chew them up like tough little pieces of meat until they were soft enough to swallow…unlike Joe, who bolted his food, sometimes choking on the bigger pieces. But Frank was always there to give him that pat on the back whenever he did….

One thing Joe was sure of, though; Frank would not be near losing it just because he didn't know what time it really was!

Regaining his composure, Joe looked down at his supply laden 'sled' and frowned. Glancing back up at the fog, he squinted his eyes, but still couldn't see anything much further than fifteen to twenty feet away.

And then he looked back at the wolf, and that's when he realized for the first time that the large predator had come a lot closer to him than before. He was no longer keeping the 150-foot distance.

"Guess you can't see me, then," the boy commented, as for some reason he felt it reassuring that the wolf was interested enough to do so. He had gotten over his concern that Pup was going to eat him, as so far the animal had shown no aggression, whatsoever.

The wolf yawned again.

"Crap," Joe muttered, rubbing his forehead and wincing as his mittens brushed his forgotten bump, "I can't very well head back to camp in this! I'd be walking in circles for days, if I even made it back. AHHHH!" He shouted in frustration. He really hated the idea of being stuck when he didn't know what was happening back at camp or when this fog was going to lift!

It was one thing when he was only supposed to be gone for a few hours, maybe a night, tops – but now, not knowing exactly how long he'd already been gone, and how much longer it would be before he could start back, Joe chafed under helpless agitation.

The only thing he knew for certain was that it was at least a four hour walk back, longer pulling the scavenged plane door.

"THIS SUCKS!" he yelled again, and then spent a few minutes stalking around to burn off his angry energy, until finally he sat down on the edge of the 'sled' and sighed, "I really hate this."

The wolf just watched.

Two and a half hours later, things had not improved.

"Okay, I am _REALLY_ beginning to hate this place now!"

Joe paced, alternating between swatting the insects that seemed to take special pleasure in tormenting him, and complaining.

According to his watch it was either 10:30 PM or 10:30 AM – the fixated boy couldn't decide and started referring to time as PAM.

So it was 10:30 PAM!

He was bored out of his mind. So far, he had inspected every piece of wreckage in the immediate area and gone through and repacked his own duffle bag, twice! Even stopping to read through all the visitor pamphlets for Greenland, he had thrown in at the last minute for his Mom and Aunt Gertrude, desperately wishing he had brought a book back with him to read.

He _had_ brought a book – but when Major Fields' older son, Erik, had expressed a desire to read it, Joe had left it behind, and the other boy had promised to mail it to him.

Although to be quite honest he wasn't sure if he would feel like reading _Alive_ by Piers Paul Read, right now anyway. It was the true story of the rugby team that crashed in the Andes – Frank's copy actually….

His brother thought it was pretty funny that Joe brought that particular book along; telling him it would jinx their flight.

Now Joe didn't know what to think.

Did it jinx their flight because he brought it with them…or because he left it behind?

Well, first you had to believe in jinxes, and than it was all in one's perspective, he had supposed miserably, after finishing the last pamphlet.

He didn't touch Frank's duffle bag, though. That was his brother's personal stuff, and even a bored Joe exercised some restraint.

It was very hard on him, passing time like this. Normally a very energetic person – too much so at times if you asked his brother – the same fidgeting that made him a trial on stakeouts, now kept him pacing and talking to a wolf.

Joe was in constant motion – he couldn't sit still for very long and felt himself winding up but he had no idea what to do to calm down. Every passing moment mocked him as it kept him pinned under a blanket of gray.

Rubbing his neck where a nasty little bloodsucker had just given him a painful nip, he decided to inspect the survival and first aid kits – he had nothing better to do….

Sitting down on a flat rock, Joe spread out the contents of the orange knapsack and shook his head as did so.

"Okay," he said, "five high energy protein bars…that's good. One empty packet of coffee - yup Frank's gonna love that. Hmmm, wonder if he can boil the packet…" his voice trailed off as he imagined his caffeine-deprived brother boiling the small empty packet to try and get some sort of fix, and then chuckled and looked at the wolf. "Forget boiling it, he'll probably just eat it, package and all!"

The wolf, which had been lying down and watching him pace, lowered its head onto his paws and continued to watch, his ears flickering every now and then as he did so.

"Ooh goodie, let's see what's in here."

Joe opened a small, crumpled-up brown bag and pulled out little condiment packages of ketchup, salt, sugar, pepper, vinegar, and soy sauce. It also had a couple of packs of moist towelettes and a handful of napkins.

The boy sighed in relief when he saw the napkins; it would beat moss any day!

He looked at the box containing a small red flare gun and six flares.

"Good. We better be able to use that!"

There was a waterproof match box with matches, half of which were missing….

A multipurpose Gerber combo tool provided about ten minutes of entertainment value as Joe inspected – played - with it before giving his nod of approval. Anything sharp was good. This thing was sharp, and also had many other little sections, not unlike a Swiss Army knife, including a ruler stamped onto the faceplate.

He picked up the collapsible shovel and grinned, looking at Pup. "Cool…we can entrench!"

The wolf didn't look impressed.

There was a pot with a lid…a lid that was a couple sizes too big, and Joe just shook his head wondering what happened to the original lid….

Illuminating candles, glowsticks and whistle all got the once over.

The signaling mirror gave Joe his first personal glimpse at himself since the crash and he grimaced at the reflection.

"Man, I hope there's no girls with the rescue team," was his only comment before he put it back down with the whistle and flaregun.

Picking up the survival fishing kit, Joe grinned, "I think we can now add fish to our vegan diet!"

The metal camping KFS was missing the knife; the four packets of water were past their expiration date (not that Joe was going to be that picky!); and the water purification tablets were old and stuck together.

Picking up a small latex condom, Joe just shook his head, "Who the hell packed this kit?"

There were two plastic rain ponchos, an empty 2-quart water bag, a plastic orange panel about 6 feet x 6 feet and a large red-handled Robinson screwdriver.

He had already removed the nylon rope to use as a harness.

The other stuff spread out on the rock impressed him about as much as the condom:

A pack of gum with only one piece left.

One can of baked beans.

More napkins…this time from McDonalds.

The packing list, which Joe was sure would be hilarious to read as he suspected that most of this stuff was NOT on the list.

A Survival/ First Aid manual that had, at some point gotten wet, and all the pages were stuck together.

"Oh well, at least it will burn," Joe mused aloud, thinking that would be about its only value right now!

A tattered woolen blanket had replaced the foil ones that were pretty standard in these kinds of kits.

Medicated lip balm, which Joe had a sneaking suspicion had already been used!

And a magazine.

Joe picked up the magazine and started to chuckle. The chuckle intensified, and within moments the teen was doubled over howling in laughter.

He laughed so hard, tears were streaming down his face and he fought to keep his breath….

It was a True Crime magazine….

_A True Crime magazine featuring an in-depth interview with none other than THE Fenton Hardy!_

Joe finally stopped laughing and stretched out on the ground, staring up into the gloom, mindless of the cold and dampness beneath him.

He snorted, "We have crashed, in the land God gave to Cain…and now we have a Survival Kit that appears to have been packed by a moron! Can this get any worse?"

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Joe regretted them.

And as if on cue, Pup rose to his feet, the hair on his hackles raised, and started to walk towards him, stiff-legged and growling!


	9. Chapter 9

**Cold Spell**

**Chapter 9**

_What do I do…what do I do? _Frank thought desperately as he looked at the dark brown bear. Outwardly he appeared unfazed by being faced with one of the largest omnivores in North America, which was a good thing, as any hysterics would end badly…for him. Inwardly, he was panicking!

This bear wasn't huge by grizzly standards but still the teen was figuring it would be somewhere in excess of 300 pounds, and it stood about 3-½ feet high at the shoulder – huge enough to him!

And that wasn't even taking into consideration the slightly curved front claws or teeth!

The only thing he knew for sure was that he shouldn't run. Running would pretty much guarantee an attack. And right now, while the bear was approaching him, it still hadn't done anything to make him think that it was going to attack – it was mostly grunting actually.

"O-okay big fella…" Frank said softly. The bear had stopped and was watching him now, its attention having moved from the fish to him. He avoided looking it straight in the eye and continued in as soothing a voice as he could manage, all things considered, "And…and what a big fella you are…aren't you?"

The bear snorted.

Frank glanced down at the fish, which was no longer wriggling.

"You want this, right?" he asked hopefully, being careful to keep his voice low so the bear wouldn't decide he was a threat.

Frank was hungry, not stupid. If the bear was willing to leave him alone after it got the fish, then so be it.

The teen knew he could catch another one…or at least he'd still be alive to make the attempt!

The bear's gaze followed the boy's to the fish, and it snorted loudly.

Slowly, Frank began to back away from the fish. As he was standing next to the pond and had no intention of going for a swim if he didn't have to, he more moved to the side than anything, letting the bear know he was giving up his catch.

"You can have it," he whispered, trying to keep his voice from shaking. "Go…go ahead….It's all yours!"

The bear watched him move away, and once Frank had put about ten or fifteen feet between them, it slowly lumbered towards the fish and picked it up with amazing gentleness, considering what it was going to do with it!

Frank continued backing away; having to keep glancing behind him to make sure he didn't trip, as he did so. His biggest fear now, as he watched the grizzly make a snack out of the decent sized trout, was that it would consider the fish an appetizer….

Bears were fast. They didn't look it, but Frank knew this animal could quickly cover the distance between them. He'd never have a chance of outrunning it.

_Curl up in a ball…if it attacks_…._Make yourself as non-threatening as possible_, he reminded himself, as he chanced a glance down at his chest to see if his hammering heart was actually visible through his sweater. It wasn't.

But when he quickly looked back up to see what the bear was doing, his legs almost gave out in relief. The large predator had turned its back on the boy and was slowly ambling away.

"Oh man…" he sighed, and then crouched down, holding his midsection tightly and taking a couple of deep breaths to calm down. "Oh man…" he gasped again, trying to get his breathing under control, "that…that was just a little…too much…getting to know nature…for my liking!"

Straightening up, he sighed and moved back towards the spot where he'd caught the fish. He still had the improvised fishing line. But as he stood and gazed out over the pond, his heart just wasn't into it.

A thin layer of fog caressed the water and gave it a surreal look, as around him the world had become hauntingly still. Although he knew he should make another attempt, he couldn't…not right now.

Realizing it had been longer than five minutes since he signaled for Joe, an exhausted Frank put the whistle to his lips and blew it for two minutes this time to make up the difference.

"Come on little brother," he said as he put the whistle away, "stay put wherever you are….Stay put and stay safe."

Letting out another big sigh, Frank checked his watch again and decided to call it a day on the fishing.

It had been made humiliatingly clear to him that he had no way of knowing what kind of danger could be watching, stalking him right now – as close as twenty feet away, and he'd never see it!

The bear had been a brutal brush that left him uneasy, as echoes from the previous night reminded him of something else. There were also wolves around.

No, he'd start back to camp and wait. There wasn't anything else really that he could do. He had berries, 'sticks' and water – enough that he didn't need to go anywhere else today if he didn't want to.

Joe had been gone over twenty-four hours now, and Frank just hoped the fog would dissipate so his brother could come back. He'd been gone long enough now…too long for the older boy's liking…_way too long._

The trek back was uneventful, with Frank still keeping up his whistle blowing every five minutes, and his chapped lips hated him for it.

By the time he had gotten back, the teen was exhausted, having been up for almost twenty-fours now.

Staggering back into the burrow, he sat down on his 'bed' and closed his eyes for just a moment – he needed to, as he was almost dead on his feet right now – but that one moment was just enough…. And without his leave, sleep stole Frank…

The wolf pack had followed their prey to the pond. They didn't need to see him to keep track of him – they could hear him and smell him and that was more than enough.

Like Pup, these wolves had never seen a human being before, and so the alpha male, a large reddish-grey animal, exercised caution and did not attack yet.

But although he had not decided if this new creature posed a threat or not, he couldn't put this off much longer. His pack, _his family_, was starving to death around him.

They had already lost this year's pups and the weaker animals, dwindling the pack down to four, including himself. And even the alpha had suffered, although he always got first choice of their kills.

At one time he was as large as Pup, and while he retained his height, he had lost much of his weight and muscle, dwindling down to only about 125 pounds right now.

They had planned on taking down their prey while he was fishing, but then the wind changed direction…and that changed everything.

It was a subtle breeze, unnoticed by the prey and having no effect on the irritating insects or still pond waters, but it was very noticeable to an animal that relied on its nose as did these wolves.

The alpha male picked up a scent….

Twitching his tail, and giving an almost inaudible growl, the wolf disappeared silently, flanked by his pack, and the prey never had any idea they'd been there….

Frank awoke with a start and then immediately looked at the time.

"Bloody hell," he muttered groggily, "I fell asleep!"

Immediately he forced his body, still leaden with sleep, not having realized he was awake now, towards the burrow entrance and then signaled for Joe again.

The fog was thick as ever and Frank felt disheartened. His mind was overcome with images of his brother wandering aimlessly though the gloom, depending on hearing the faithful whistle…and then walking on past while the older boy slept.

Struggling out of the burrow and standing up, Frank cupped his hands to his mouth and shouted, "JOE! JOE!" Then he listened, but heard nothing, only a faint echo of his voice across the tundra, muffled by the fog.

Running a hand across his sleep-filled face, he shivered and reached back inside the burrow for his parka.

"I need a coffee," he muttered, zippering the parka up as the temperature had begun to drop again. "A nice, good, black cup of java."

Putting the whistle to his lips, he signaled again and then put it away.

He briefly toyed with the idea of fishing again, as the thought of the lost trout made his stomach cramp painfully, but then dismissed it as being too late to start right now. Although it was no different than it had been this morning, it was still 8:30 PM, and Frank didn't want to mess with his internal clock and these endless days, if he didn't have to.

Frank sighed, and looked at the time again – he wished this fog would lift so his brother could hurry and get back….He missed him something fierce!

Going back inside, he sat down and leaned back against the burrow wall, sighed, and closed his eyes. He started doing formulas in his head to keep himself awake… it was going to be a very long night!

The wolves were back.

The alpha was disconcerted and this fueled his need to finish this hunt, tonight. He would need his strength, and this prey would give it to him.

Cautiously, the small pack approached the burrow, coming much closer than before. They knew the strange animal was inside, they could hear him breathing and smell him.

The fire, smoky and low, offered them some deterrent as natural aversion was self-preserving…but even that was quickly dwindling in light of survival.

When the flap was suddenly thrown open and the boy thrust his head out, the carnivores heard that dreadful sound again and retreated noiselessly into the gloom.

The creature did that with an alarming regularity. The noise was piercing and made them lay back their ears and bare their teeth. For anything with hearing as good as theirs, it was deafening!

And then within a short time, the noise ceased, the boy tossed more moss on the fire, and then disappeared into his hole again.

The wolves watched the small fire flare up briefly before settling down and smoking again, their hunger battling their fear…and then, lifting his head to the sky, the alpha male let out a haunting howl.

Immediately the alpha female and the two beta wolves that were left joined him, and their chorus was chilling….

Starvation won.

Frank heard them again tonight. This time they sounded like they were right outside the door! He could hear their heavy breathing and excited little yips as they could smell him and knew he was close.

The teen was even more thankful than ever for Joe's foresight in using the seat leather to make a 'door,' as he was sure that was the only thing that kept them from ripping him apart. But he didn't know how much longer it would continue to act as a deterrent!

Wolves were smart; too smart if you asked Frank right now.

The hair rose on his neck as he felt a new fear spear him – how was Joe going to get past the pack? _If he even made it back to the camp…that was._

Swallowing that disturbing thought, Frank crawled towards the flap and lifted it – he had to see just how close the wolves were now….

And then he froze as he looked right into a pair of yellow eyes!


	10. Chapter 10

**Cold Spell**

**Chapter 10**

Another low growl coming from behind him drew Joe's attention from Pup. He turned his head and froze as four wolves slipped out of the gloom, quiet as death. They were less than twenty feet away…and closing!

_The rest of the pack_, the boy assumed as his mind froze with fear, paralyzing him, although all his instincts were screaming at him to move!

_But where?_ The wolves would cut him down within seconds, as Pup got close enough for Joe to see his own reflection in the aggressing carnivore's yellow eyes!

_Need to get my knife_, he thought, trying to force his hands towards his pocket, _gotta make them work for their dinner…or breakfast!_

And then the silvery white wolf effortlessly pounced over the prone boy, landing on the other side and effectively putting himself between Joe and the new wolves.

Breaking free of his paralysis, Joe scooted backwards, any ideas he had about Pup being part of this new group instantly dissipating. This was not how wolves greeted friends!

Pup was snarling, with his ears laid back against his skull and his tail held high. His stiff-legged walk ended as he came within feet of the new wolves.

Joe had no trouble picking out the alpha wolf in this pack as three of the wolves held back, a little.

_The alpha was out of his league though_, was the boy's first thought as, mesmerized, he stopped backing away, although he did get his knife out and extracted the blade…just in case.

The reddish-grey male was outweighed but bold; nevertheless, his position was bolstered by the fact that Pup was a newcomer. Although, if Joe remembered correctly from a program Vanessa, an avid wolf enthusiast, had made him sit through once, the rest of the pack would not interfere in a dominance challenge.

The two males continued their display, assessing each other for weakness…and then, as quickly as they came, three of the newcomers turned and left.

The alpha gave one final low bark at Pup, glanced down at Joe, and then followed his 'family'.

_What the hell just happened?_ The boy wondered, realizing that he had missed something subtle. But then again, seeing that they were a completely different species and Joe didn't know that much about wolves, he wasn't really surprised.

Pup stayed exactly where he had been standing when the alpha left and continued looking into the fog for a few more moments before he started to relax, and his ears pricked forward again.

Without giving Joe another glance, the large wolf slowly loped away, and within moments he was out of sight.

"Uh, Pup?" the boy called after his lupus companion, his voice tinged with anxiety, "Where you going boy?" He found the thought of being completely alone, without even the animal, very unsettling.

But, of course, the wolf never answered, and the fog became suffocating….

Joe looked down at the small first aid kit – it was the only item from the Survival kit that he hadn't looked through, but he no longer had the desire.

Every few seconds he'd glance up and expect to see the wolf there, but it wasn't.

"Face it, Hardy," he muttered, shoving the stuff back into the orange knapsack, leaving out one protein bar, "the wolf dumped you!"

Picking up the small white box with the cross on it, he sighed and slipped it in last. "I think I'll let Frank do the honors with this one, I can't be having all the fun myself."

Around him the eerie silence was starting to really get to him – he hated to be alone.

When he was alone he thought of too many things…many of which he really didn't want to think about at the best of times, let alone now!

"Think happy thoughts…think happy thoughts," he said aloud as he put the knapsack back on the 'sled' with his and Frank's duffel bags, and then used a section of nylon rope, that he'd already cut, to tie them together.

Now when he started to tow the plane door, if one fell off, they'd all fall off, and he'd spend a lot less time backtracking!

He thought about his girlfriend Vanessa, closing his eyes as he did so. Until he met her, he had thought he'd never fall in love again….

Not after Iola…._That's not a happy thought_! Joe scolded himself and focused on Vanessa again. He could almost smell her perfume and feel the softness of her ash blond hair as it brushed his face and tickled his nose….

God, he missed her.

"_Oh babe, do you have to go? I really was looking forward to spending the whole summer with you…and you alone," the beautiful seventeen-year-old had pouted. _

_Although Vanessa knew it would never work, as the brothers got to spend so little downtime with their Dad that they'd never turn down this opportunity…but she didn't want Joe to think she'd just give him up without even a little fight!_

_But when Joe had looked deeply into her gray eyes with a torn look on his face, as he struggled between wanting to go and not wanting to leave her, Vanessa had kissed his cheek gently and smiled._

_Her heartstrings tugged. He tried so hard to be everyone's everything….She looked into his vibrant blue eyes and sighed, thinking herself the luckiest girl in the world – she was Joe Hardy's girl. _

_Putting her hand against his warm cheek, she whispered, "It's okay Joe….I'd never try to hold you back from something like this…" and then she grinned mischievously, "but you had better bring me something extra special!" _

Joe blinked hard for a few moments, as his eyes had teared up just thinking about her….

"Oh angel," he said, sighing heavily and looking at his duffle bag. It had been hard for him to find something special enough for Vanessa, and he just hoped that she'd like the delicate whale bone earrings he'd finally settled on. "I hope they're special enough…and I hope even more that I'll get the chance to give them to you…."

"Happy thoughts, Hardy," he chastised, wiping the one tear that sneaked past his defense, "You will see Vanessa again…and Mom and Dad…and all your friends. You just gotta keep remembering that."

Sighing, he peered into the gloom and shivered. The temperature had definitely started to drop again, and his clothes, dampened from the mist, didn't offer him as much warmth as he would have liked.

He thought about changing into something else from his duffle bag but decided against it. No matter what he put on he was going to get damp. He would just wait until the weather changed and then so would he!

"I suppose I could fish out one of those rain ponchos," Joe said as he crouched down next to the 'sled' again and looked at the Survival kit, "But it's not really raining. And the silly thing is only made of plastic….I might need it more later."

Standing up, he looked at the time again – tried chewing up his unease like he knew Frank would – and stared in the direction that he had come from when he first found the tail section.

The frown on his face intensified as he realized that was the same direction the wolves – all of them – had disappeared in….

Now it was true that the wolves might still be only a few feet away, shrouded by the gloom, but every instinct in his body told him no, that he was alone. Completely and utterly alone.

And then he felt a growing feeling that started as unease and rapidly ballooned into something much more intense. It was a burning need to get back to the camp, _now_!

The feeling was so strong it made Joe lightheaded and he actually staggered a step before he regained his balance.

"Frank," he whispered. He couldn't explain it any further than that. All he knew was that he _needed_ to get back!

"Hold on, big brother," he said, ripping open and quickly devouring the protein bar he'd kept out. He knew he should be eating it a lot more slowly, as it would hit his stomach like a ton of lead. But the determined youth decided he'd cross that bridge when he got to it!

Right now he had other more important things to worry about than a stomach ache.

Shoving the now empty wrapper into his coat pocket, Joe took one more look around the wreckage and saw nothing else of interest.

Stepping into the makeshift harness at the front of the 'sled,' the teen took a few tentative steps forward – the plane door made a horrific scraping noise as it was dragged, but Joe nodded in approval.

It was heavy but nothing he couldn't handle….It was just going to be slow going….

Slow and noisy!

_Oh well, that should definitely keep the animals away. _Joe couldn't help but grinning, as he slowly started off into the fog, in the direction he knew he'd come from.

The starting off wouldn't' be bad. But keeping on track would be. He could only hope that Frank held up his threat of blowing the whistle for him, as once he got closer to the burrow, he'd need it as a homing beacon, even if the fog lifted.

"Frank would kill me if he knew I was even attempting this," he chuckled and then added, "but what he doesn't know won't hurt him!"

Forcing himself to keep his pace slow and steady over the ornery terrain, Joe tried to ignore the little voice screaming in the back of his head for urgency.

His brother needed him, Joe knew that as certainly as he knew his own name….So, slowly, one foot in front of the other, he dragged his noisy burden into the mist….

"Hold on, Frank," he whispered. "I'm coming."


	11. Chapter 11

**Thank you everyone who has taken the time to read and review - all comments are appreciated. I must take a moment to say thank you to my patient and wonderful beta,JD, who has worked with me over the past year to help convert my notorious spelling and grammer into something more readable. Hence the increase in quality between the Delirium Series and these standalone stories.**

**I am posting chapters 11 and 12 tonight instead of tommorrow as I have been having some difficulties with uploading documents over the past two days - better safe than sorry, I always say.**

**Again thank you for all your comments, and yes, I have to admit, I do love cliffhangers but hang in there because the brothers are about to be reunited and the rest of the story will continue with them reunited:)**

**Cold Spell**

**Chapter 11**

For one horrifying second, Frank was sure he was going to die – that the wolf would just lunge at him and rip his throat out…but it didn't.

Instead they locked eyes, and for a few brief moments Frank was treated to a rare glimpse into the carnivore's soul…a glimpse that he was not prepared for….

What he had been expecting to see, the boy wasn't sure – but it definitely was not what was there!

In place of a cunning cruelty and wanton bloodlust, he saw something more akin to fear and desperation; an undeniably shrewd and intelligent hunter, but one who did so from necessity and not from pleasure.

_If only mankind had the same reservations that Frank saw in this predator's eyes…._

The wolf was thin. For the few seconds that the boy got a good look at the 'enemy,' he had been able to see the animal's ribs sticking through the reddish-grey coat….

And then something distracted the wolf and it retreated, followed by the others, so silent they might have never been there.

"_What the…_?" he asked aloud, shaken and shocked by the encounter. Taking a couple of deep breaths, the teen crawled out of the burrow and stood up. There was no sign of the wolves anywhere.

Fumbling for the whistle, he blew it again and then sighed, still unnerved and feeling very vulnerable – _what was taking rescuers so long to find them?_ He was sure they weren't going to be spending too much time here….

The only good thing he noticed was that the fog was lifting, and he hoped Joe would be 'home' soon. Glancing down at the pathetic fire, Frank tossed more moss on it and wished he had something to make it more a deterrent to the wolves. Apparently they weren't taking the smoldering as being worthy enough to fear!

The aircraft was mostly plastic and metal and the boys had already burned what feeble offerings it had in the first fire.

Frank thought about his friends and family at home and shook his head sadly. Man, he missed being home.

"Callie was right," he muttered, "She said nothing good could ever come from August snow!" A small smile graced his chapped lips as he thought about his blond-haired girlfriend. _If she was here right now, being cold wouldn't' be so bad…she always knows how to warm me up…._

Blushing at the thought, Frank couldn't help but give a little chuckle. "Now I'm beginning to think like Joe!"

He spent a few minutes stretching his aching muscles before deciding to go back inside. Having no idea what had stopped the wolf from devouring him right then, Frank figured he shouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth – time to go back into his hole.

As he was just putting down the flap, he paused, his keen hearing picking up a new sound echoing from somewhere across the tundra…a noise that sounded out of place.

Poking his head back outside, he listened a little longer but couldn't identify it – it didn't sound like any animal he knew….The sound was an odd kind of irritating noise, and as Frank stood up again and cocked his head to the side, he tried to determine from which direction it was coming from. He couldn't. But the noise gave him cold shivers as it echoed around him.

And then suddenly it stopped.

"That's odd," Frank said aloud, but then figured that it could have been just about anything! He listened for a few more minutes, and satisfied that whatever it was, it had been put to rest, he went back into the burrow to count off the next five minutes.

oooOOOooo

The wolves were unsettled.

They had been prepared to attack as soon as the creature came out of the old burrow again, but then a foreboding noise distracted them. Flighty by nature, they beat a hasty retreat until they could make sense of it. All they knew was it was something they had never heard before.

oooOOOooo

Joe was exhausted and lost.

The only thing that kept him going was sheer stubbornness. His body was begging to stop but his mind refused. He was being driven by the most powerful feelings that if he didn't get back in time, something terrible was going to happen to Frank.

And that was something the younger boy wouldn't allow – not as long as he thought he had the power to stop it. He would push himself to collapse first, but he'd never give up!

But slowly his body, limited by its own mortality and lack of food, began to shut down. One forced step after one forced step…that was all that was left…and not too many of those anymore.

He had been moving for hours now, losing count of just how many as he couldn't afford to expend the energy to look at his watch.

The weight of the 'sled' had become unbearable long ago, and every step required a tug to get it started again - even the nylon rope felt like it would cleave him in half if he didn't stop.

But he couldn't.

And now he was lost. Well, he didn't know that for sure, but that's how he felt. Nothing looked familiar, and the only glimmer of hope he had was that the fog was lifting.

Exhausted, red-faced and sweaty, the teen stumbled forward a few more steps before sinking to his knees on the ground.

"Can't do it," he sobbed when he tried to force himself to a standing position but couldn't. "Sorry…Frank…." He needed to rest. Bowing his head until it touched his chest, the boy closed his eyes…just for a moment.

oooOOOooo

The wolves had had enough. The racket had stopped and they were too hungry to put this off any longer.

The alpha raised his head and gave one long soulful howl and they advanced on the camp again.

oooOOOooo

Joe jerked awake.

_What was that?_

The echo around him chilled him even more than the dropping temperatures….Wolves.

Instantly he thought about the small pack that had accosted him at the tail wreckage, and he struggled to his feet. They'd tear him to pieces in a second if they caught him asleep!

And then his heart pounded as he heard something else…something he recognized…

A whistle.

oooOOOooo

Frank felt a cold shiver when he heard the alpha's song. He had just straightened up again and put the whistle to his lips when it started.

Hastily he blew the whistle and then turned around to go back inside… but couldn't!

Standing right behind him, blocking his escape, was one of the wolves – the alpha female. And she was crouched – ready to attack!

oooOOOooo

Joe's legs felt leaden but somehow he managed a shambling run – abandoning the 'sled', knowing he'd never get to Frank in time with it saddling him down!

Of course he might just be overreacting, but worst case scenario, his brother could come back with him and help him tow it the last little ways to the burrow….

And then he heard the scream!

The wolf leapt….

Frank screamed…..

And then a silvery white blur broadsided the female like a train on a transport truck, knocking her to the ground hard, and then stood over her, growling!

Paralyzed with shock, the teen just stood there, arms still raised over his face in a defensive stance. The sound of ominous growling broke through his fear, and he scurried away from the wolves, his hand quickly pulling out and arming his pocket knife.

It wasn't much but it was something!

"_FRANK!"_

_oooOOOooo_

Frank's head whipped around as he was flooded with relief and a bit stunned to see his brother moving towards him across the cantankerous terrain as quickly as possible.

And then he saw something that froze the blood in veins even as he tried to warn his brother!

The large alpha male had seen Joe and was now honing in on him at a horrifying pace!

"JOE, LOOK OUT!"

Frank was already moving, although he knew he was too far away to do anything…._It was just like his dream_….!

He screamed when he saw the alpha leap at Joe and then the younger boy went down beneath it…a flurry of teen beneath reddish-gray predator.

"JOE!"

oooOOOooo

Joe didn't see the wolf until it was almost upon him. He'd been too focused on Frank and _his_ wolf problem.

"_Pup_?" he gasped as he forced the last of his strength into his legs. He could make out the large silver-gray animal, and then he heard his brother shout, and barely had time to get his arm up in front of his throat, before the unseen wolf attacked him!

Searing pain shot through his arm and shoulder as he went down beneath the canid….


	12. Chapter 12

**Cold Spell**

**Chapter 12**

Adrenaline tore through Frank's body, propelling him across the tundra with only one thought on his mind – Joe! He had no plan, only instinct driven by the sound of his brother's cries, muffled beneath the wolf's body!

oooOOOooo

Joe cried out as the wolf shook his arm, sure it was going to rip his arm right off! He tried to get his feet under the animal to throw it off, but the animal held fast, giving his arm another vicious shake…and then it was gone!

oooOOOooo

Frank threw himself onto the wolf and got his arms around its neck as the animal twisted beneath him! The pocket knife slipped from his hands and fell uselessly to the ground!

Immediately releasing Joe, the alpha tried to get his head around to get the older boy off his back, but the teen held on for dear life!

Frank was surprised at the raw power he felt beneath him as he tried to keep his grip, not even bothering to try and figure out how this might end!

"R-run," he gasped through clenched teeth, not daring to break his concentration long enough to look at his brother – he just hoped Joe wasn't hurt too badly.

oooOOOooo

Joe heard his brother's voice but it seemed surreal against the wall of pain that threatened to crush him. His arm was burning with pain but it was nothing compared to the agony that tore a begrudged gasp from his lips when he tried to move it!

_Not good_, his mind screamed as he clutched his arm tightly to his chest with his good hand and then tried to roll away from where Frank and the wolf were locked in a deadly wrestling match!

_Wait…_his foggy mind protested, _I'm the wrestler…. _

_oooOOOooo_

The alpha female lowered her head, tucked her tail between her legs and then rolled onto her back exposing her underside to Pup. She knew she was no match for this new wolf.

Pup sniffed her and then gave a short bark at the two beta wolves, stopping them from going after the alpha. The betas recognized the bark and understood….The new wolf was going to challenge their leader!

This had suddenly moved from a hunting excursion to a dominance match!

Lifting his head back, Pup gave a clipped howl, and then moved in on the struggling pair….He'd just made his intentions known….

The alpha heard the challenge and gave one more violent twist, throwing the tiring boy off his back, but instead of going in for the kill, he turned to meet his challenger!

oooOOOooo

Shocked when the silver wolf's timing couldn't have been better…again…Frank staggered to his brother and dropped down beside him. He quickly glanced around to make sure the other wolves weren't stalking them, and was satisfied that for now they were more interested in the power struggle going on between the other two wolves, than they were in dinner!

"_Joe?"_ he asked, his voice leaden with concern as he saw the pained grimace on his brother's face. "Are you okay?" He knew it was a stupid question as it was obvious he wasn't, but he needed to start somewhere.

Taking off his mittens and shoving them in his pocket, he tried to check the younger boy's arm, but Joe cried out in pain and pulled away.

"Joe, what's wrong?" He could see the blood seeping through tears in the jacket, but had no idea how bad the injury was yet.

"Arm," Joe hissed as he closed his eyes and tried to get a grip on the pain. "Hurts…bad…."

"Okay, okay," Frank soothed, "Joey…I need to take a look at your arm….You're bleeding," he added, fearing his brother might be going into shock and not realize what needed to be done. Joe's face had gone pale and his breathing was rapid but shallow. His eyes were closed and the older boy knew he was in a lot of pain.

_Just how bad is this?_ he worried, taken aback by his brother's response. Joe had a high pain threshold; it must be bad to make him react like this!

"I… I need to take your arm out of the sleeve," Frank said, a bit shaken by seeing Joe in so much pain, but when he tried to move the arm out of the jacket, the screech that shattered the tundra made him jump back as if he'd been slapped!

"Joe! What's wrong?" Frank was starting to panic, desperate to see the injury that was doing this.

"Sh-shoulder," Joe mumbled, his voice trailing off.

"_Shoulder?_" Frank repeated and then his eyes widened in alarm as he suddenly realized what his brother was trying to tell him. One look at the way Joe's left shoulder was drooping a bit more than the right, and the protective way the younger boy was holding his arm, was all the confirmation he needed – the wolf had dislocated Joe's shoulder!

No wonder he was in so much pain!

"Oh baby brother," he said softly, knowing how painful it was going to be for his brother to re-locate the bone – but it had to be done. And soon. There was no choice.

oooOOOooo

Pup was momentarily distracted when Joe screeched, and the smaller wolf went for his throat! However, his size and strength still outmatched the alpha, even with the advantage of distraction. And within moments, the struggle was over, with Pup pinning the old leader beneath him, his teeth buried deep in the other wolf's throat. Deep but not deep enough to draw blood…only enough to make his point.

Immediately the smaller wolf became submissive – he knew when he was beaten.

Only then did Pup release him, and the old alpha, with his tail tucked tightly between his legs, took off as quickly as he could. He was now an outcast, and if caught in this area again, his old pack would kill him.

It was survival of the fittest.

Once he was sure the old alpha was gone, Pup raised his head, opened his mouth and sang, quickly chorused by his new pack.

They sang of the coup; they sang of hope this new leader would bring; and they sang good-bye….

Pup knew there wasn't enough food here to sustain the pack. The old wolf knew it too, but had been too stubborn to move them away. But the white wolf didn't have those reservations. He was from the north and he knew exactly where they were going….

He glanced over at the boys and watched them for a few moments, sniffing the air and curious. But his curiosity had been mostly satisfied and while he didn't consider them a threat, they were a distraction. And living on the arctic tundra, they could not afford the distraction!

_Avoid at all costs,_ was implanted in his mind, along with something else…something even stronger. _Not prey… predator_….

With one final yelp, he moved his pack out of the area. They had caribou to hunt….

oooOOOooo

Casting a furtive eye on the wolves, Frank had seen the new wolf overthrow the leader and wasn't sure how he felt about that. The silver wolf was much larger, and he felt a creeping worry that he'd resume the attack now.

But he didn't. In fact when the wolf looked at them, Frank saw something else. He saw an understanding, but of what he didn't know.

Next to him, Joe moved his head, saw Pup and managed a smile. "B-bye Pup….See you l-later," and then he closed his eyes again and tried to deal with the pain.

Frank gave his brother an odd look, but decided it was the pain talking. He still had to try and stop the bleeding, regardless of what was happening with the wolves; and to take care of that dislocated shoulder before it caused damage to Joe's tendons, muscles, blood vessels or nerves!

First things first though, he _needed_ to see the bite.

Realizing it would be impossible to get the injured arm out of the sleeve; Frank retrieved his pocket knife and as carefully as possibly, cut the jacket to get a better look.

Joe moaned in pain but forced himself to keep still as Frank spoke low and soothingly to him trying to distract him.

"Well one thing about this place, never a dull moment!" His brother groaned in response and Frank continued with his banter, "Man, I'd kill for a cup of coffee. I'm not even particular what kind of coffee – as long as it's hot and someone _insinuates_ it came from a bean, that's good enough for me right now!"

The dark haired boy grimaced as he got his first look at the bite, and immediately pressed his hand down to try and stop the blood which was running down Joe's arm and dripping off the end of his fingers.

The younger teen didn't seem to notice as he started to shiver, and this increased Frank's concern.

"Joe?"

His brother didn't answer so he tried a little louder, "Joe!"

This time there was a mutter and Frank leaned in close to hear what he was saying before pulling back and eyeing him critically. "_Pizza_? What about pizza? Joe, you're not making sense!"

_Oh God, he's going into shock_, Frank thought as he pressed down a bit harder on Joe's forearm and felt how cold and clammy the skin was beneath his fingers; warmed only by the blood seeping down the forearm. He knew he had to get his brother back to their camp and warm him up, soon.

The wound had four puncture sites from the powerful canines that had torn through the jacket with little hesitation, and they were bleeding freely.

"Crap," Frank muttered his mind on overdrive, "I'd kill for a first aid kit!" He needed something to use as a bandage. The one Joe had fashioned for him was back at the burrow, but Frank would have been reluctant to use it anyway, as it was already soiled with his blood, and the last thing they needed was for Joe to get an infection.

"S-s-sled," Joe shivered, and Frank frowned, was his brother delirious already?

"What?" he asked. "What are you talking about?"

"S-s-sled," Joe tried again, forcing his heavy eyelids open and taking in the confusion on his brother's face. It was very hard for him to focus as his whole body was growing numb, except for the lancing pain in his arm whenever he tried to move it. "K-k-kit…on sl-l-l-ed."

Again Frank shook his head; his brother wasn't making sense. And then comprehension hit him like a ton of bricks – a sled! Of course!

That must have been the strange noise he'd heard a short time ago. Joe must have found the survival kit and was towing it back on something!

It fit. The noise he heard could easily have been something metallic or plastic being dragged across the ground! And knowing how stubborn Joe could be, he would not have returned without it!

"Where is it, Joe?" Frank pressed, afraid that his brother would pass out before he could tell him. "Where's the sled?"

"B-b-b-back…th-th-th-ere," Joe stuttered, his shivering getting worse.

"Okay, kiddo, I need you to move your hand…your good hand," Frank amended. "I'm going after the kit, but I need you to keep pressure on that bite, okay? _Joe_?"

It was taking a lot of effort for the younger boy to concentrate on what he was saying, and after a moment, Joe gave a brief nod indicating he understood. He released his grip on his arm and moved his hand down to cover the bite as Frank removed his own hand.

Frank put his hand over Joe's for a moment, shocked by how cold it felt, and pressed down until he felt his brother grasp a bit more tightly.

It would have to do.

Swiftly, he got to his feet and began backtracking in the direction Joe had been coming from; it only took a few minutes to find the 'sled' laden down with the survival kit _and_ duffle bags!

"Way to go, kiddo," he whispered proudly as he raced the rest of the way and hurriedly snatched at the orange backpack, pausing only long enough to cut the rope binding it to the others. He marveled at his brother's foresight in using the plane door for a sled but wasted no time in admiration, he needed to get back to Joe now!

Dropping to his knees beside his brother again, Frank gave a start and quickly checked for a pulse when he saw the closed eyes and still form.

He found the pulse - rapid but weak. Breathing a quick sigh of relief Frank tore open the backpack searching for a first aid kit, and it was right on the top!

Snatching it out, he opened it and then just stared down at it in stunned disbelief.

"What the…?" he asked, dumping the contents out on the ground, and then he grabbing the survival kit and dumping it out too. "Where's the rest of the first aid kit? Where's the pressure bandages?"

He stared down at everything in shock –

While there were plenty of Band-aid _wrappers_, there were no Band-aids left!

The small tube of antibiotic ointment was half empty….

The white tape, almost gone….

A bottle of nail polish remover?

A tube of toothpaste?

No scissors.… 

A handful of large pink elastics?

Pink lipstick?

Peroxide….

And a ton of eye pads!

Frank sank back to the ground and shook his head. "This has to be some sick joke."

"F-F-Frank?" the voice was barely a whisper, and startled Frank as he thought his brother was unconscious.

"Yes Joe?" he said, leaning over to touch the cold cheek with his warmer hand, "I'm right here, kiddo."

"D-d-did you…get the k-k-k-it?"

Smiling gently as he reached for the eye pads and tape, Frank said, "Yeah, I did."

And then he actually couldn't help but laugh, as Joe shook his head slightly, opened his eyes a crack and asked, "P-p-packed b-b-by…m-m-m-oron?"

"Yes, little brother," he laughed, "It was packed by a moron." And then he amended, thinking of the nail polish and lipstick, "_A cross-dressing moron!"_


	13. Chapter 13

**Cold Spell**

**Chapter 13**

"Joe, we need to re-locate that shoulder," Frank said as he finished securing the eye pads over the bite using the pink elastic bands. Worried about possible constriction, he just needed them to hold the makeshift bandages in place while they reset Joe's shoulder.

Then he could move his brother back to camp and take a better look at the bite.

Joe didn't open his eyes but gave a little nod of his head, indicating that he'd heard and understood. The pain was making him nauseous and he just wanted it over with!

"'k-k-kay," he whispered after a moment, and then opened his eyes, blazing blue in his pale face. He was still shivering although Frank had already hauled the tattered woolen blanket over and draped it around his brother's shoulders – he was hoping Joe's chill was coming from the cold ground he was lying on, but had no way to remedy it until he could get his brother standing up….Either way, they had to take care of the shoulder first.

"H-h-hit m-m-me," the blond boy stuttered from the cold, and felt his brother's fingers pause in their work even as Frank said, his voice incredulous and loud in the strange quiet that was surrounding them.

"_What?"_

"H-h-hit m-m-me," Joe tried again, as he fought to stay awake. Exhaustion coupled with his injuries and intense pain from the dislocation were threatening him, and he doubted he'd remain conscious much longer. "K-n-n-ock sh-sh-sh-oulder in…in…in p-p-plac-c-e."

The younger boy couldn't think of any other way to do it. He didn't have the strength to find something to run into, and a hospital room was out of the question! He'd seen enough dislocated shoulders while playing football and skiing to know there weren't a lot of options when it came to re-locating it. And no matter what, it was going to be painful!

"No," Frank said bluntly.

"F-F-Frank p-p-p-lease—" The older boy put his fingers over his brother's mouth to silence him as he continued.

"No Joe. I'm not going to hit you. You can do this yourself….I'll help you, kiddo, but not like that."

Joe closed his eyes in resignation. He'd just have to somehow get to his feet and find something to run into. But then he felt his brother's warm fingers caress his cheek and heard his voice, gentle but reassuring at the same time.

He opened his eyes again and looked at his brother.

"Remember when Tony put his shoulder out last year and I took him to the ER?" Frank smiled down into the weary blue eyes. He didn't wait for Joe to respond, he just continued, "The doc told him a technique Ton could use if it happened again and we weren't near a hospital or anything. And I think you can do it. In fact I know you can!"

Joe did remember the incident all too well. He, Biff Hooper, Tony Prito, and Frank had gone camping about an hour outside Bayport.

Tony and Frank, the early risers of the campers, had decided to take a hike to the top of a bluff while they were waiting for Joe and Biff to welcome the day. But Tony slipped on the trail and ended up head over heels at the bottom. He was incredibly lucky though, and a dislocated shoulder had been his worst injury.

Frank had helped Tony back to camp and then drove him to Bayport while Joe and Biff stayed behind to pack up, their enthusiasm being lost in light of their friend's injury. Biff had driven himself and Joe back later that same morning.

"H-h-how?" Joe asked, desperate for some relief.

"Okay," Frank started, and the younger boy smiled in spite of himself as he heard his brother slip into, what Joe secretly called "_Frank's Boss Voice_." It was a clipped, all-business; no-fooling-around tone that made you automatically sit up and take notice, instilling intense confidence that he knew exactly what he was doing.

And for some reason it overwhelmed Joe with a sense of relief to hear it right now when he felt like the pain was going to swallow him.

"First we need to sit you up," Frank gently slipped his arm around his brother's waist and helped him sit up. They moved slowly so it wouldn't jar his shoulder, and then the older boy gave Joe a few minutes to recover from the movement.

"N-n-next," Joe shivered, feeling lightheaded and needing this over with, now!

"Okay," Frank said, "I'm going to bend your left knee up so that it's at a 90-degree angle….Hold on. Just relax, you don't have to do anything, I'll move it…."

Joe felt his brother put his knee in position – so far, so good.

"Now comes the harder part," Frank admitted, frowning as he knew this was going to hurt – Joe needed to move his injured arm, just a little bit, but right now even a little bit would be agony.

"k-k-kay," the younger boy managed, dreading the next part as he suddenly got a very good idea of what was coming.

"You need to clasp that knee with both your hands….I can help you with your left—"

"N-NO!" The word came out sharper than Joe intended, but Frank took no offense, knowing it was the pain. "I-I-I'll d-d-do it-t-t!"

Slowly and with great effort, Joe moved his left hand to his knee, biting his lip to keep from screaming as he did so. His face was covered in a sheen of sweat, and he had to take a few minutes to get his breathing under control before he could do anything else.

Frank waited as he gently rubbed his brother's back to help him calm down.

"You need to relax for this to work," he cautioned softly, and grimaced at the look Joe shot him. "I know that sounds impossible…but try…if not, then you might have to try it again. It can take up to three attempts according to that ER doctor."

"Y-y-you're n-n-n-ot h-h-helping-g-g," the younger boy shivered.

"Sorry," Frank said, and then watched as Joe tried to take deeper steadying breaths. Slowly he felt some of the tension going out of his brother's back. He continued to rub it in soothing circles until Joe finally said he was ready to do this.

_Please let this work on the first try_, Frank prayed, even as he said, "Extend your neck…yeah, like that. And now lean backwards – letting your arms straighten out!"

Joe gave a sharp cry of pain as Frank heard a sluggish pop, and then he just collapsed!

"Joe!" Frank cried, leaning over the prone boy and shaking his good shoulder gently for some response, but there wasn't any.

"Damn," he muttered, "Did it go back in?" Gingerly, he checked his brother's shoulder and then let out a sigh of relief – it had. "Thank goodness!" Now that Joe was out cold, Frank wasn't sure how he would have done it if the shoulder had still been dislocated

But with Joe unconscious, Frank could work a bit faster, and quickly wrapped the blanket around his brother, stuffed a few of the first aid items into his pockets, and then gently lifted Joe up.

He staggered under the weight, his own body weakened by hunger and exhaustion, and waited for a moment to shift Joe into a better position before he headed back to the burrow.

"It's okay, little brother, you just take it easy," he murmured, although he knew the other boy couldn't hear him. "I'll come back for the rest of this stuff after you're taken care of."

Slowly, he made his way across the terrain and back to the burrow. His mind was already occupied with what he had to do once he got Joe back there, and he was just glad that he had some water already boiled and cooled down – he was going to need it.

The bite needed to be cleaned and dressed first, and then the shoulder, although back in place now, would still need to be immobilized in a sling for a couple of weeks.

So he'd have to make some sort of sling. Actually that part of it didn't concern him very much – he had more than one idea on making a sling…without that _stupid_ first aid kit.

He was, however, very concerned about two other things:

Cleaning the wound properly so it didn't get infected; as they had nothing to treat an infection with, and…

_Rabies_.

Either way, he already knew he wasn't going to be getting much sleep tonight!

Glancing one more time at the bright night sky, Frank said a heartfelt prayer that they'd be found soon, and then moved Joe into the burrow.

"Welcome home, kiddo," he whispered as he gently laid his brother down on one of the cushions. He heard a soft groan in response, and was surprised to see Joe slowly open his eyes, blink and then look around until finally coming to rest on Frank.

His lips moved but Frank couldn't hear what he was saying. Leaning down to pick up the faint words, the older boy felt a lump stick in the back of his throat.

"I w-w-wan' g-g-go h-h-h-ome."

"Oh baby brother," he whispered through blurring vision as he reached out and stroked the pale, cold cheek, "you will…soon. _I promise."_

That was good enough for Joe.

The younger boy closed his eyes and let himself fade out again. His big brother was here and he knew Frank would take care of things…he wanted to help, but he was just too tired.

So he slept.

_And in his dreams, an ash blond with warm gray eyes smiled at him and whispered, "The best gift you can bring me back from Greenland…is you…."_

_Special thanks to JD for her advice on this chapter! I know Frank really appreciates it, as he wasn't too impressed with the other proposed techniques for resetting that arm! LOL!_


	14. Chapter 14

**Cold Spell**

**Chapter 14**

Frank sat back and watched his slumbering brother. _Sleeping or unconscious?_ He really wasn't sure which, but he really hoped it wasn't the latter.

He'd done the best he could, flushing the bite with cooled water and then smearing some of the antibiotic ointment on it before using more eye pads and what was left of the white first-aid tape to bandage it.

An internal conflict had ensued when he looked at the small bottle of hydrogen peroxide he'd stuffed in his pocket and debated whether to use it for its antiseptic purposes or not. In the end he'd decided against it; it would be painful and quite possibly delay healing, as it does destroy living tissue as well.

He hoped he'd made the right decision.

Frank had then used his own belt to fashion a makeshift sling for the younger boy's arm, fastening the belt and then looping it around Joe's neck and left wrist. It would do until he could make something better.

For now it helped support his shoulder by keeping the weight of the arm off it.

Joe would need to keep his arm supported for a couple of weeks at least, and Frank snorted softly, thinking of all the protesting he would have to endure during that time…

"_But Frank," he pantomimed in his best 'Joe' voice, "I can't move my arm!"_

"_Well Joe, that's kind of the idea." He switched to his regular voice._

"_But Frank, my arm is perfectly fine!" the 'Joe whine' again. "I can do pushups, wanna see?"_

"_No."_

"_Why not?" whined 'Joe'._

"_Cause if you even attempt it, I'll have to break your other arm!"_

Frank gave a little laugh as he finished the dialogue, smiling fondly down at his brother; Joe made a horrible patient!

The eighteen-year old had also balled up the soiled shirt sleeve using moss as stuffing, to help elevate the bite, by placing it between Joe's ribs and his arm. It wasn't much but it should help a bit.

And then he'd taken off his own coat and put it over the younger boy, afraid that Joe would go back into shock. It was cold, but Frank still had his sweater on and figured it was better for _him_ to be a little cold right now…at least his brother had finally stopped shivering.

Glancing down at his watch, he saw it was only 5:45 A.M., and sighed wearily. Was it really only an hour and a half ago that the wolves had attacked?

He knew he should go back and get the 'sled' and the survival kit he had unceremoniously dumped on the ground, but he was hesitant to leave Joe right now, and he was so tired anyway; he wasn't sure he'd actually get much further than the burrow entrance without collapsing!

So instead he opted to lie down on his own seat pillow next to his brother and watch him sleep for a while.

As he watched the gentle rise and fall of Joe's chest beneath the parka, Frank sighed and tried to fight back a wave of panic when he thought about it again…. _Rabies._ That was something he couldn't do anything about.

He _could_ wash, dress and monitor the bite for any signs of infection…he could fashion a sling to help immobilize the arm…he could keep his brother warm and from going into shock…but there was a_bsolutely nothing_ he could do if the wolf that had bitten Joe had rabies.

The older teen didn't think the old alpha did, as the animals looked almost starved to death, and he envisioned that was what had propelled the attack…but he wasn't 100 sure.

And he knew that even if…no, _when_ they were rescued, there were no tests that could conclusively say whether or not his brother had been infected without the wolf's carcass.

They would just have to wait and hope.

Frank frowned, not liking that at all. Because he also knew that by the time Joe _showed_ any symptoms, it would be too late.

There was no cure once the disease was that advanced. It had to be treated at onset. And that presented a problem for them right now!

A huge problem.

Sighing, he tried not to think of it as he reached his hand over and checked his brother's forehead for any sign of fever. That was the biggest worry right now – infection.

So far so good, though. Joe felt a bit clammy still, but not warm.

Closing his eyes for a moment, Frank ran his lips across his chapped lips and let out a heavy sigh.

He wanted to go home.

Joe opened his eyes and blinked in confusion. _Where was he_?

_Oh yeah_, he thought remembering the plane crash and wolf attack, _not Bayport…._

He shifted his head just slightly when he heard the sound of heavy breathing next to him, and gave a small smile when he saw his sleeping brother. Frank had his head on his arm for a pillow and was asleep facing Joe. It warmed him and gave him a tremendous amount of relief to know that Frank was right there. He might have panicked if he'd woken up alone.

Alone and injured….

The feelings he'd had while he waited out the time away from the camp threatened to overwhelm him, and he wished Frank was sleeping on the other side of him, so he could at least reach out and touch him with his good arm. But he wasn't, so Joe had to content himself with just looking at his brother and knowing he was right there.

And after a few long moments, it did work and he fought the feelings back.

_Thanks bro_, he whispered, soundless so as to not disturb the sleeper, and then turned his head back to face forward.

Wincing as he turned his head, Joe was reminded too well of what happened. He was still in a lot of pain but it was nothing compared to earlier as he realized for the first time, that his shoulder was back in place.

_Thank goodness_, he sighed and then wondered if his attempt at self-location worked or whether or not Frank had to use something more extreme, afterwards. He decided he wasn't sure if he really wanted to know. All that mattered was that the mind-paralyzing pain had been replaced with something a little easier to cope with…a little.

Joe remembered Frank talking to him and telling him to take it easy, but his memory was pretty fuzzy about anything that happened after the attack up until just now.

After a few moments he realized just how thirsty he was. He wasn't really that hungry anymore, but boy oh boy did he want a drink.

Gingerly, he moved his head to look at his brother again, but Frank looked so tired that the younger boy was reluctant to wake him up just yet.

Instead he tried to distract himself.

The bite was throbbing and he started counting each little throb, wondering absently if the bandages were too tight. And that made him smile – he wasn't sure if it really happened or if he dreamed it, but for some reason he was sure the First Aid kit was as much a treat for Frank to open as the Survival Kit had been for him.

But then the smile faded as he decided that maybe the circumstances weren't exactly that funny.

A slight movement next to him, made him look at Frank again and that was when he noticed for the first time that his brother had given him his coat! No wonder Joe wasn't feeling cold!

_Oh bro_, he thought as intense feelings of love and affection for the other boy washed over him, _not bad enough you wrestled a wolf for me…but you gave me the coat off your own back. What the hell did I ever do to get you as my brother?_

Seeing Frank unconsciously wrap his arms around himself to keep warm, Joe tried to move the parka over to him, using just his right hand, but it was too awkward with Frank lying on Joe's injured side.

Gritting his teeth against what he knew was coming, Joe forced himself to roll ever so slightly onto his bad side to give him enough reach and then he kind of threw the coat, as best he could.

Groaning from the effort, he lay back and fought the wave of dizziness that assaulted him with movement. But it was worth it to give Frank his coat back.

The sleeping teen snuggled down under the warm jacket and Joe glanced at his watch, stuck on permanent PM – 7:00 PAM.

_Great_, he decided closing his eyes, exhausted by that little exertion; _welcome another day…or another night_.

Either way, he hoped Frank woke up soon, because he really wanted a drink of water!


	15. Chapter 15

**Cold Spell**

**Chapter 15**

Frank woke up with a jolt.

"Wha—?" He hadn't meant to fall asleep!

During his sleep, he'd rolled onto his back, and now quickly flipped to his side, frowning when he noticed that he was covered in his own parka. Looking at his brother, he immediately reached out to check his temperature, when Joe's eyes flew open and he gasped, surprised by the unexpected contact.

Startled, Frank withdrew his hand like he'd been struck!

The younger boy gave a wan smile when he saw the look on Frank's face.

"S-sorry," he said with a little difficulty. His mouth was dry and he found the word stuck in his throat.

"I thought you were sleeping," Frank admitted, sitting up and eyeing him carefully. "How you feeling?"

"Thirsty," Joe admitted. He'd been trying not to think about it, but now that Frank was awake, the need hit him ten-fold.

"Oh," Frank said, and then admitted, "I'm not surprised." The older boy figured his brother was probably mildly dehydrated from his return trip back and then subsequent blood loss. He had already brought in some fresh water and had it near the burrow entrance for Joe when he woke up. "Hold on."

The younger boy closed his eyes, still a bit more weary than he cared to mention, and listened to the sound of slight shuffling as Frank moved from his spot.

A moment later, he felt his brother slide an arm around his back to help him sit up. Opening his eyes he saw Frank holding the 'bowl' of water and looking at him.

He felt a bit dizzy and blinked hard a couple of times to try and clear his head.

"Do you need help?" Frank asked, still keeping an arm around him, and Joe gingerly shook his head as he reached out with his right hand for the water.

Frank let him take it but still kept one hand on it as well, not too sure just how weak his brother was.

"Slow sips," he cautioned the younger teen when Joe started to drink, "You don't want to get sick."

Nodding slightly, Joe agreed 100 on that and only took a couple of careful sips before moving the bowl away from his mouth.

"Thanks," he said, sounding better now that he'd had some water.

Frank winked at him as he took back the 'bowl' and put it down again, this time nearby, where Joe could get it himself, if he needed. Then he grabbed his own cushion and propped it behind his brother's back so Joe could sit up more easily.

"How's the arm?" the older boy asked as he crouched down next to him.

"Not bad," Joe said, and when Frank didn't look convinced, he continued, sounding a bit tired, "honestly, Frank. I've felt worse."

"Hungry?" the dark-haired teen asked after a moment. He knew Joe was in pain but there wasn't a whole lot either of them could do about that, except try to keep his mind off it.

Joe thought about that for a moment; he was still more thirsty than hungry, and he reached for the bowl again, grateful when Frank gave him a hand. Because of the size and shape, it was a bit difficult to maneuver the water bowl with one hand, and being left-handed, his right was just a little bit weaker anyway.

After another couple of sips, he sighed, "Yes and no."

"Yes and no?" Frank repeated, putting the bowl back down. "Care to elaborate?"

Joe started to shrug but thought better of it; his shoulder was doing enough grumbling as it was without him adding to it. "I don't really feel hungry, but I know I should eat something."

"That's true," Frank admitted. Although his own grumbling stomach was letting him know it wasn't a 'yes and no' case for him. It was all YES! And then he grinned, "I caught a fish yesterday!"

Joe's face lit up. "_Really?_"

"Yeah," the older boy laughed, "but then I got mugged."

"What?" Joe screwed up his face in confusion. "_Mugged? _By whom?"

"You get one guess," Frank said coyly, "Big, brown, weighing a couple hundred pounds and _not_ wearing a YOGI hat!"

What little color in Joe's face completely drained away as his mouth dropped open and he gasped, "_Bear_? Frank, you got attacked by a bear!"

Frank held up his hand to calm him down, even as Joe continued, winding up very quickly, "Are you okay? Did it hurt you? What—"

"Whoa!" Gently squeezing his brother's hand, Frank tried to reassure him. "I'm okay! You can see that!"

Joe paused and narrowed his eyes slightly as he gave his brother the once over.

Frank continued, "He didn't even touch me. He did however, steal the only thing worth eating in this darn place!"

The younger boy sighed in relief, afraid that Frank was hiding some grievous injury from him, although he did have to admit, that was usually his job.

"I'm sorry," Frank said after a moment.

"Sorry for what?" Joe asked.

"For mentioning about the bear."

"Oh that," Joe sighed, "it's okay. You can't be expected to keep track of all my neuroses. Besides it's been a long time since I've had that dream."

The brothers were quiet for a few more moments, each lost in reflection until Joe looked down at his arm and shook his head, snorting softly, "Bears…wolves….This place just keeps getting better and better by the day." And then he looked back at his brother, his blue eyes wide and anxious. "Frank, what time is it?"

The older boy glanced down at his watch wondering why Joe just didn't check his own. "Ten o'clock—"

"No, no!" Joe cut him off, almost frantic. "Morning or evening? Tuesday or Wednesday?"

"It's ten a.m., Tuesday morning. Joe, are you all right?" Frank reached across again to check his brother's forehead, worried that he was delirious or something.

Joe swatted his hand away. "I'm fine. It's just…well…" he looked down at his own watch a bit sheepishly, "when I was gone, I lost track of time and it really scared me…that's all. I didn't know if it was morning or night, or even how long I'd been out for—"

"Wait a second, what do you mean 'how long I'd been out for,' don't you mean 'asleep for'?" Frank demanded, picking up on his brother's choice of words.

The younger boy scowled even as he absently reached up to touch the lump on his forehead. Frank had noticed it earlier but thought it was just another one from the crash…now he wasn't so sure.

"Umm…well, I had a little bit of an accident," Joe started, "well, not an accident really. The stupid wind tossed a stupid piece of plane at me and in typical Joe Hardy fashion, I used my head to catch it! Anyway, after I came to, I finished getting everything ready to come back with and then shut my eyes for a moment…one moment, but bam, I was gone."

"I know that feeling," Frank admitted, ruefully, and then was quiet again to let his brother continue.

"Well, it's just that when I did wake up, I wasn't sure if it was morning or night, and then I started to worry that maybe I'd been unconscious instead of sleeping and had no idea how long I'd been out."

"Why didn't you just look at your watch?" Frank pressed, "Or did it get broken in the crash?" Although he was pretty sure it was working afterwards, as he'd seen Joe checking it a couple of times.

"It's fine, mostly," Joe admitted, "But the PM/AM indicator is stuck on PM."

"Ah," Frank said with sudden insight, "That sucks."

"No kidding," Joe said wholeheartedly. "So I started to refer to the time of day as PAM….It was all I could do." The last part came out softly as if he was embarrassed by how important time had become to him. But Frank gave him an understanding smile and squeezed his hand again, reassuringly. These twenty-four hour days were murder!

"Well, like I said it's Tuesday morning, and we've been here three days more than my liking," Frank continued and then added, "Well, why don't you try and get some rest while I go and rustle us up something to eat."

"Please, no berries," Joe said with a grimace, thinking his stomach would probably hire a hit man if he forced it to digest another berry!

Then he looked at his brother with a hint of mischievousness on his face. "Hey Frank, there's an empty packet of coffee in the survival kit."

Frank turned back to him and shot him a look. "Oooh, that's heartless kiddo…real heartless. What'd you do? Pour out the coffee and keep the packet just to torment me?" His tone was teasing and Joe knew it, but pretended to be offended anyway.

"Hey, it wasn't me! You know I wouldn't touch that stuff with a ten foot pole! _But that moron who packed the kits_…well he's another story!"

They both burst out laughing, before Frank helped Joe ease back down on the pillow and under the blanket. The younger teen was asleep almost before his brother finished tucking him in.

Sitting back on his heels for a moment and watching his brother sleeping, Frank gave a contented sigh. It was just so good to be back together… again.


	16. Chapter 16

**Cold Spell**

**Chapter 16**

The next two days were the longest in Joe Hardy's life as he convalesced in the burrow, slowly regaining strength as his body replenished the blood he'd lost and adjusted to the pain of the injuries.

He was frustrated not to be back on his feet by now, but his brother was quick to point out that he wasn't exactly trying to recover under the best conditions, battling a weakening body every step of the way.

Frank surreptitiously made sure Joe got the slightly larger portion of food right now, which pathetically amounted to a few extra berries or extra ketchup. They had to strictly ration what little food had been recovered from the survival kit and the duffle bags, and Frank thought it would be better if they alternated days between what they could scavenge and what measly 'real' food they had. It was enough to stay alive on but made it difficult to make quick ground while recuperating.

In addition to the four protein bars that had been left over after Joe ate one before the trip back; various condiments were being used to help 'flavor' water, oft times to Joe's chagrin (mustard water sucked, but they needed the nutrients from wherever they could get them); one can of baked beans; toothpaste, and one piece of gum; they also had a small vacuum-sealed pack of salmon Fenton had given to his older son to bring back for Sam Radley, and a box of seal-shaped chocolates Frank had gotten for Callie.

That was it.

The older teen had not gone back to the pond to try his hand at fishing again, although he now had the survival fishing kit. He wanted to wait until Joe was feeling well enough to go with him. Neither boy fancied the idea of being separated again. Especially not since Joe found out about Frank's run-in with the grizzly bear….

When he was younger, the blond youth was plagued by recurring nightmares about a bear, and the thoughts that Frank had come face to face with one, made him uneasy and unwilling to let the older boy go fishing without someone to watch his back!

Frank also found the bottle of Tylenol Extra Strength that was packed in his shaving kit and that helped with the pain, although he was very strict in how much he would let Joe have.

There was no television, no stereo, no good books – even the savage irony of the detective magazine was no longer the distraction it had been, not for the older teen anyway.

Joe knew something was bothering Frank but had no idea what. His brother had become quieter and more grim than usual, but every time he had tried to get him to open up, the older boy found a sudden need to check the fire or something else that often times took him outside the burrow until Joe fell back asleep. He suspected it might have something to do with their father's cover picture on the magazine, but wasn't sure if that was it, or just part of it.

But for him it was another story. The photograph gave Joe a lot of comfort. When he looked at the serious face that carried just a hint of humor in the dark brown eyes, it was a physical reminder of hope.

Joe knew his father would be looking for them and he would continue to do so until something was found. They had not gone down over an ocean or other body of water where a plane could sink into oblivion – no, they had crashed on land. And Fenton Hardy would not stop looking for them….

So he tended to stare at it for long periods of time, usually when his brother was tending the fire, getting food, water or otherwise distracted.

"How does Dad do it?" Joe wondered when Frank came back into the burrow and caught him gazing at the picture, again.

"Do what?" the older boy asked, pretending not to be worried about the amount of time his brother spent staring at the cover.

"Be such a good detective when his face is so well known?" Joe sighed and reached out to trace the outline of their father's strong jaw.

Frank watched him for a few moments, his worry growing with each moment. He wished Joe wouldn't spend so much staring at it…it unnerved him.

"I dunno," the older boy finally admitted, "guess that's what makes him so good….That and the fact that he's a master of disguise."

Joe looked at him strangely for a moment and then nodded. "You know, I never thought about that before…but you're right. There probably aren't that many people out there who really know what he looks like…" His voice trailed off and he got a whimsical look on his face.

Frank knew he was elsewhere and after a moment, he cleared his throat. Joe blinked and looked at him. "I don't think you should spend so much time looking at that picture," the older boy said softly. "It isn't good for you."

Joe looked at him for a moment and then he just said, "Why does it bother you so much?" His tone wasn't cross or reproaching, just curious.

"I don't know," Frank finally admitted a few moments later as he tried to put it into words. "I guess because whenever I look at it, I keep thinking of all the people we might never see again…starting with him…." He couldn't say the word…_Dad_…it stuck in his throat.

It had been five and a half days now since the crash, and Frank found his hope for rescue wavering, no matter what kind of front he put on for Joe.

Joe put the magazine down and reached and took his brother's hand in his own, surprised by how cold it was. But then again, he'd been stuck inside where it was warmer, and bundled under the blanket and sweaters from their duffle bags, while Frank had been doing something about lunch.

"You're cold," he said, and the older boy just shrugged. He _had_ been outside for a while. Joe rubbed his brother's hand, trying to get some warmth back into it. "Use my mittens; I don't need them right now."

Frank scoffed, "Kiddo, I don't know how to break it to you, but I don't know where they are. They weren't on your hands when you got back here."

Joe frowned as he thought about that for a moment. He didn't remember losing the mittens or even taking them off, but must have if he wasn't wearing them at the time of the wolf attack. Most of the trip back was a hazy blur at best – he'd been so tired….

Shaking his head he sighed; he let go of Frank's hand and patted a spot next to him. "It gives me hope."

"What gives you hope?" Frank asked as he had sat down next to his brother and leaned back against the dirt wall, appreciative of the invitation. He laid his arm lightly across the top of his brother's shoulders and felt the younger boy settle back against him.

"The picture," Joe said, pulling some of his warmed coverings over them both – it must be freezing outside, judging by how cold Frank felt!

"Oh," Frank was curious, "why?" He closed his eyes and let his cheek rest on the top of his brother's head – weary beyond belief; hunger and exhaustion taking their toll on him.

"Well," Joe said, "when I look at it, I can almost hear his voice in my head saying 'don't give up, son, I'm going to find you,' and I believe it."

Frank opened his eyes and glanced down at the picture again. He gave a small shudder and felt his brother grab the hand that he had draped gently over his left shoulder. Joe gave it a small squeeze.

"It's just eerie…" Frank finally admitted, closing his eyes again, "looking at the picture, seeing him but not seeing him…it's hard to explain."

He waited for Joe to comment but the younger boy was quiet for a long time, and Frank thought he must have drifted off to sleep, but then his brother spoke, his voice reflective and more a whisper than anything: "Maybe it doesn't bother me like that, because I'm used to seeing things that way."

"What do you mean?" Frank asked, a bit baffled, as he stifled a yawn.

"You're tired," Joe said, "We can talk about this later. Why don't you get some sleep?"

"I'm okay," Frank said, "I'll take a nap after lunch."

"What is for lunch?" Joe asked. He actually was hoping to distract Frank from this conversation, suddenly unsure if he wanted to finish it.

"Well…" Frank said, reaching up with his free hand and rubbing his tired eyes, "How does half a protein bar sound, with a ketchup and water chaser?"

"No sticks this time?" Joe pressed, "Or berries?"

Frank gave a soft snort. "I figured I'd save those local delicacies for real special occasions…like breakfast."

"Nice," Joe said. "What's for supper, or is it too early to tell?"

"Depends on how you're feeling, actually," Frank admitted a moment later.

"Me, how so?"

"Do you feel up to arguing with me?"

Joe frowned as he saw the faintest hints of mischievousness in his brother's serious brown eyes when he looked back at him.

"That depends," he admitted, slowly, after a few moments, "What would we be fighting about?"

"Baked beans."

Joe groaned loudly, "Oh man. No way. They're your thing – not mine, Frank, you know that!"

"So you are feeling better," Frank mused – _Hardy vs. Hardy, Round 2_, "Beans are high in protein, kiddo, and fiber. They contain lots of vitamins and minerals, like iron, folic acid, niacin, potassium, all the good stuff that'll help you. They also contain vitamin K which helps with normal blood clotting! "

"My arm isn't bleeding anymore!" Joe refuted.

Frank pulled away slightly, folded his arms and gave his brother 'the look'.

"You've been rehearsing," Joe grumped; he really hated beans!

Frank sighed, "Joe——

"Frank."

"I don't want to force you—"

"Then don't."

"Joe."

"I just really hate them! What's the good of eating them if I can't keep them down anyway!"

"Are you feeling nauseous?"

"Well…no, not really."

"Are you planning on purging?" The older boy demanded.

"No!"

"Then why don't you think you'll be able to keep them down?"

Joe paused and glared back at his brother but he didn't say anything.

Patiently - a heroic act on the part of Frank, five and a half days after being stranded with his brother – the dark-haired teen finished his argument: "I want to go fishing tomorrow…_with my brother_."

He didn't need to see the scowl on Joe's face to know it was there. But he ignored it and hid his own small smile when he felt the resigned sigh, rather than heard it, and Joe just said, "Fine, but on one condition…"

"Sure, anything for you, little brother," although, even as he said the words, Frank knew he'd live to regret them….

"You wear the lipstick!"

Now it was Frank's turn to scowl….


	17. Chapter 17

**Cold Spell**

**Chapter 17**

"Joe, I look _ridiculous_!"

"No, you…actually yes, Frank, you do. Sorry, bro!"

"That's it, I'm taking it off!"

"No welching! I ate the stupid beans, didn't I?"

A long pause.

"_Didn't I_? Hello, earth to Frank, _come in, Frank_!"

"That's different; your body needed the beans."

"Hope you're still saying that a little later…_Sorry_."

"Joe!"

"Okay, _all_ kidding aside, big brother. Your lips are all cracked and chapped. You don't want to use the lip balm because someone else already has! This stuff is moisturized, _at least_, and it'll help heal and protect your lips!"

"But it's so…so…_so pink!_"

"Yeah it is…isn't it?"

"Joe, you're not helping!"

"Sorry."

"hmmph"

"No, honestly. I'm sorry…"

A barely controlled snicker.

"Oh yeah, little brother, that sounds sorry."

"Well I am…. _Sorry I don't have a camera,_ as that shade looks divine on you, big brother!"

Frank pursed his lips and refused to talk to his brother, no matter how much Joe cajoled him! Instead, he just set a furious pace towards the pond.

Finally, twenty minutes later, exasperated by his brother's mood and exhausted from trying to keep up, Joe needed to stop as a strong wave of dizziness staggered him. This was the first time since the wolf attack that he'd been out of the burrow, and his body was protesting this sudden spurt of activity.

He'd taken two Tylenol™ before even attempting to get up, but they didn't seem to help dull the horrid ache in his shoulder or do anything about the weariness that still tugged at him. The bite itself wasn't as bad, he was just incredibly sore…even with the sling Frank had improvised.

Grudgingly Frank had put the pink lipstick on, and although he knew that his brother was right on all counts about it, he still didn't have to like it! And the teasing had done nothing to help his unnaturally surly mood this morning.

He just felt extremely and defensively silly…even if his lips did feel a bit better….

It took Frank a few moments to notice that it had gotten awfully quiet and he glanced over his shoulder, alarmed to see that Joe wasn't following him anymore.

"Joe?"

Hurrying back, he saw Joe squatting down, and at first he thought he was looking at something. But when he got closer he saw his brother's face was pale and he had his eyes closed.

"You okay?" he demanded, concern replacing the earlier sharpness in his voice. Joe didn't open his eyes but he answered him.

"Just give me a moment."

Frank crouched down next to his brother, and his worried brown eyes searched his brother's pale face, looking for any signs of fever. He started to reach out with his hand to check his forehead when vibrant blue eyes opened and smiled wanly at him.

"I'm okay," Joe insisted before he took a deep breath and stood back up; the older teen rose with him.

"You're pale."

"Yeah, well, I haven't had much chance to work on my tan." Joe tried to lighten the serious look from his brother's face, but it didn't work.

Frank opened up his mouth to say something, but then stopped himself and looked back towards the burrow. "Maybe we should wait another day or two, until you're feeling stronger."

"Frank, I'm fine." Joe tried to keep the irritation from his voice but it was hard. His brother had always been fairly protective, but the past two days, he'd become so much so, that at times, the younger boy found it overbearing. But he didn't say anything, knowing Frank was just worried about him and troubled that they hadn't been rescued yet.

Or at least that was what he was figuring, but he wasn't 100 sure about that. All he knew was that his brother was brooding over something….

Frank was a very reserved, private person, normally, although he was a lot more forthcoming with Joe than anyone else. However, it was still difficult to get him to talk without pinning him down, and the younger teen was in no shape to wrestle with him this morning.

"_You're not fine,_" Frank snapped, "So why pretend? Or would you just rather I have to carry you back to the burrow…_again_?" He regretted it as soon as he said it – he wasn't angry at Joe…but Joe was the only one around to take it out on.

What he was, _was_ extremely frustrated by his lack of control over their situation; an irritation that was growing each day since his brother had gotten hurt. He could feel it gnawing away from the inside, and although he knew he should talk to Joe about it, he was afraid to. He was afraid of what his brother would say…or that he'd in some way validate Frank's greatest fear….

So the older Hardy kept it inside and stewed; trying to keep the other teen from seeing the anxiousness on his face every time he checked the bite.

Joe snorted softly, shook his head and continued walking towards the pond.

"Joe, I'm sorry!" Frank reached to grab his brother's right arm but the younger boy shook him off and then turned on him.

"What's your problem, Frank?" he demanded, hurt evident in his voice. "Did I do something to piss you off this morning? I'm sorry for teasing you about the lipstick, okay! Trust me, you have no idea how sorry…but I'm just trying to get you to lighten up! You've been so quiet the past couple of days, and I know something's bothering you, but for the life of me I have no idea what! I can't read minds…so unless you're going to tell me, I can't help you – I-I don't even know where to start!"

Frank just looked at him, and Joe scoffed, "See! This is exactly what I mean! Frank, _please_, talk to me!"

He was surprised to find himself shaking as he waited for some kind of response, or at the very least a cold rebuke, but to his surprise the older boy's face grew sad and he sighed heavily.

"I'm worried…_about you,_" Frank finally admitted, his voice soft and hesitant, and when Joe looked at him, any anger he had, dissipated, replaced by intense compassion for the look of deep sadness he saw on his brother's face.

"I told you I'm fine Frank. Yeah, I got a bit dizzy for a minute, but I'm okay now. Honest."

"That's it," the older boy said, looking deep into the expressive blue eyes watching him. It was evident that Joe had no idea what he was worrying about. "What if you're not?"

Joe thought about that for a moment and then pressed, knowing there was something else going on that he was missing; something about him. "What, Frank? What aren't you telling me? I thought my arm was doing okay…. Do you think it's infected? I don't feel any worse!"

"No, it's not that! The bite itself is healing nicely," Frank rushed to assure him – and it was, to his relief.

"Then what is it?" Joe demanded, his voice soft as he tried to coax the truth from his brother. "_Please_ tell me big brother, you're beginning to scare me…"

Frank met his gaze and then sighed again and looked away, his eyes suspiciously bright as he whispered hoarsely, "_What if that wolf had rabies?"_

Joe was stunned. He just stared at his brother for a few minutes, unable to say anything. That thought hadn't even occurred to him…well it had, but only briefly before he'd dismissed it.

Finally he just said bluntly, "I don't."

"You don't what?" Frank looked at him again.

"I don't have rabies," Joe clarified.

"How do you—"

Joe cut him off gently, "Frank, that wolf wasn't frothing at the mouth or red-eyed. He wasn't acting in any way unusual _for a wolf—"_

"But he attacked you!" Frank persisted, not wanting to admit to his brother's common sense right now, as he'd stewed about this for too long.

"_He wanted me for lunch_!" Joe refuted, and then before Frank could say anything else, he continued, "And if he did have rabies he would've gone after me again instead of Pup…_or you!_ For Pete's sake, you _were_ on his back!"

"Pup?" Frank was confused. W_ho was Pup_?

"The silver wolf." Joe smiled, thinking about his traveling companion. "We kind of had a thing." The smile turned into an open grin as he saw the look on his brother's face. "Get your mind out of the gutter, perv! He shadowed me for a bit, and even kept me from becoming wolf chow when that pack showed up just before I decided to head back."

"Oh," Frank said, glancing towards the pond again – his brother's reasoning started to stir up the logic in his brain again…a bit.

Joe reached out and touched his brother's arm, drawing his attention back to him. "I don't have rabies, Frank."

The older boy regarded him for a few long moments before he said, "I want to believe you Joe, but there's still a chance. Not every animal infected with rabies behaves the same."

"True, big brother, but don't go punishing yourself about it just because you've got nothing better to do!" Joe chastised, and then quipped, "_That's my job_!"

Frank just looked at him and Joe became serious again. "Look, I will admit there's a chance…_a very slight chance,"_ he amended when he saw the fear on his brother's face, "however, we have a much better chance of being rescued in the next ten minutes than I've got of having rabies, okay?"

The older boy chewed his lip and Joe sighed. "Look, I promise you that if I start to feel any worse, I'll let you know. But please don't worry until there's really something to worry about…" his mouth twisted in just the faintest smile, "'cause you can't afford to waste the calories worrying!"

Frank looked at him strangely for a moment, but then a smile, a genuine smile, lit up his face and he reached out and mussed up his brother's hair affectionately. "When'd you get some smart?"

"Well," Joe admitted dryly, "I've had a lot of time to reflect lately!" And then he laughed, "That…and the '_not-so-stupid-anymore'_ wolf documentary that Vanessa made me sit through, before we left!"

"I've always been rather fond of that girl…" Frank mused and then narrowly dodged a back swipe from his brother.

"So now are we going to stand around here all day, or are we going fishing?" Joe asked, glad to see the dark seriousness that had plagued his brother all morning, lifted from his face – if only for a little while, anyway.

Frank laughed. "Fishing." And this time when they set off, the pace was much slower and they stopped periodically to give Joe a rest.

When they did finally get there, Joe picked a good spot and then after taking off his coat and spreading it on the ground to sit on, wearily settled down to watch. It was a fair walk from the burrow to the pond, an hour usually, but longer today.

The only good thing was that it was reasonably warm and a small breeze kept the insects from savaging them too much….

Frank looked at him and then grinned, "All right you, no comments on my technique!" He stripped off his jacket, passed it to Joe and then rolled up his sleeves.

"Uh, Frank," Joe asked cautiously, "What are you doing?"

Crouching down, the eighteen-year-old winked and then gave a sly grin, "Look, listen and learn…"

Within minutes, Joe was laughing so hard that his stomach hurt – he had never seen antics like this before from his normally reserved, older brother, _and while wearing such a charming shade of pink lipstick too_….

It reminded Joe of watching someone trying to catch a piglet…and it would be one of the few memories that he truly cherished from this time….

And then Frank cried out, "Aha!" and stood up proudly. Joe just shook his head and wiped the mirthful tears from his face.

"My hero," he quipped at his brother standing triumphant on the tundra….He'd caught a grasshopper!


	18. Chapter 18

**Thanks everyone for all your wonderful reviews - and sorry ANON but I am a big Joe fan and there are many Frank stories on this site as well, so I thought I would get back to what I love best and that is Frank as the super big brother!**

**There are only five chapters left to this story so I will pull back a but on the posting and only post one chapter a day instead of two. Besides the brothers are back together again so I don't need to put up two so you can get your fix of which ever brother is your favorite.**

**Again thanks for the reviews and I am glad most people seem to be enjoying the story! Love, Phoenix **

**Cold Spell**

**Chapter 18**

Frank sat in the same spot as he had done the first time he caught a fish. It was a beautiful day – the sun bright in the cloudless sky. Overhead he heard the whistling sound of wings as a flock of tundra swans flew above them.

Somewhere else there was a chattering rodent, and every now and then he even heard the soft plop of a fish breaching further away in the pond.

If it wasn't for the fact that he was always hungry and his body felt weary from lack of substantial food and good sleep, this might have been considered pleasant.

But it wasn't. And he wasn't fishing right now because he wanted relaxation or a change a pace – he was fishing for their survival.

His and Joe's.

Thinking about that, he turned his head to catch a quick glimpse of his brother. It had been a while since Joe had made any comments, witty or sarcastic, and he assumed his brother had fallen asleep.

And he had, using Frank's parka as a pillow, the older boy noticed.

Stifling a small grin as he didn't want his brother to see him, the older teen plucked the small tube of lipstick from his pocket and applied a fresh layer to his lips. He'd never admit it, but it did make his lips feel better.

_Now here's a habit I don't want to develop_, he chuckled to himself before slipping the tube back into his pants pocket and shaking his head, as he could just imagine the looks on everyone's faces if they could just see him now.

But then he sobered up, _if they could just see us now, I don't think they'd care if we were in drag dancing Swan Lake…. They'd just be happy to see us…._

Sighing, he turned his attention back to the fishing line and wondered if he'd caught the wrong kind of grasshopper this time, because nothing seemed to be biting….Well, nothing except those vicious little blood suckers that were out in full force now the wind had died down again!

Frank was a bit glad about that, though – not the insects, but about the wind abating – at least it was fairly warm, all things considered, and he didn't mind sitting there in a warm sweater instead of needing his heavy parka!

Thinking of parkas made him frown. That was the one thing Joe hadn't found at the other crash site – his heavier coat. And now with one of his sleeves cut halfway up the arm, it would provide even less protection than before. And that was going to be a real problem if they didn't get rescued soon.

That and his missing mittens. They had no spares and Frank had made Joe stuff a pair of socks in his pocket in case it got colder. They'd do to keep his hands warm, at least.

Thinking about the rescue frustrated him. Frank couldn't figure out why they hadn't been found yet – they'd now spent six nights in this horrid place. They should have been found!

_Maybe I messed up the coordinates_, the boy thought grimly, thinking of his mayday call. But then he shook his head; he'd been amazingly calm at the time. Not amazingly calm, eerily calm.

He'd told Joe they were going down, and to brace himself; then he'd made the call…

_Maybe no one heard the call_; he weighed this option for all of two seconds before dismissing it. He'd had verbal confirmation from the tower.

_So what if the plane's navigational equipment was off?_ And if so - why? Frank's detective mind went into suspicion mode but then he chastised himself and muttered, "Give it a rest, Hardy – planes do go down without there being some big conspiracy theory. We were only visiting friends in Greenland, no mystery there…."

He started to think about his father. Joe was so sure that he would find them that Frank didn't even want to think what would happen to that confidence if many more days passed and he didn't.

e wasHe wasn'

The older boy wanted to believe just as strongly, but he couldn't. He knew with each passing day their chances of rescue became slimmer, and he had no idea how long formal searches would continue.

_Probably a few weeks_, he speculated, but as he looked up into the bright sky, he wondered if they could wait that long.

Every day spent here brought them one more day closer to the winter, and they were in no way prepared for any serious coldness or months of never-ending darkness….

So far he hadn't mentioned it to Joe, but Frank was starting to give some serious thought to them having to find their own way….Leaving the plane and heading south.

Glancing back at his brother, he sighed. He'd prefer to wait until Joe's shoulder was completely recovered, but they might not have that chance. How long could they remain?

That's why he hadn't opened the salmon yet, or the chocolates….If they did decide to walk out, they'd need those food stores even more then. _Curiously enough, Joe never asked him about that_….

A small tug on the line interrupted his thoughts, and Frank spent the next few minutes carefully playing the fish before it plopped down on the ground. He smiled and was very proud of himself.

The trout wasn't the largest, but it would give the brothers some desperately needed sustenance without drawing on their few reserves.

He started to call out to the younger boy, but stopped and decided to let him sleep. Instead, he turned his attention back to the pond – maybe they could have two trout for supper!

Joe awoke with a start and looked around, taking a few moments to reorient.

He'd been having the weirdest dream…and then he sighed. It wasn't a dream.

"Frank?" he called out to his brother who was sitting with his back to him, still fishing, "Any luck?"

The older boy turned around and grinned when he heard his brother's voice. "Got one!"

"No kidding!" Joe said, excitement in his voice as he struggled to sit up, hissing sharply when he jarred his arm. _Darn it_, he thought, _when's it going to stop hurting so much!_

"You okay?" Frank was still looking at him and hadn't missed the pained grimace.

"Just peachy," Joe muttered, and then teased when he saw the fish on the ground, "_Is that it_?"

"What do you mean is 'that it'?" Frank demanded.

"Well I just mean…" Joe gave him a grin, "What are _you_ planning on eating?"

"Hey, you should be asking yourself that question! _I caught it_. The only thing you caught was a nap!" the older teen retorted, and was rewarded with a piece of moss being pulled up and tossed at him.

"Stop throwing food!" he chastised, and then stood up to stretch his cramped muscles. He'd been sitting in the same position for a long time. Joe also rose, pretty much in the same situation: stiff.

"Why don't we switch for a while?" the younger boy suggested. "I wouldn't mind trying my good hand at fishing and you can get some z's."

Frank started to protest, but then saw the sense of it. He wouldn't mind an hour or so of sleep, and it wasn't exactly strenuous work. Joe could do it one-handed, well, unless he caught something….

"Okay, but if you get something, wake me up and I'll help you land it."

"Sure," Joe agreed, immediately seeing the sensibleness of his brother's suggestion.

Within moments, Frank was lying down on Joe's coat with his own as a pillow, while the blond boy was perched on the edge of the pond playing the line in the water.

"Fishing is hard," Joe grumbled to himself, half an hour later. Fidgety under the best conditions, he found it very difficult to just crouch there and give little tugs on the line. Glancing over his shoulder at his sleeping brother, Joe shook his head and wondered how Frank could do it. He'd sat here for over two hours doing just this!

_Patience of Job_, he decided as he stood up and stretched, pulling the line out of the water as he did so. He looked around and sighed. Tundra as far as the eye could see.

_Where are you, Dad? h_e wondered as he gazed across the horizon, half expecting to see a rescue plane any moment. _I just want to go home._

Frank hadn't said anything to him yet, but Joe suspected he was weighing the option of them trying to walk out, and the younger boy wasn't sure what he thought about that . It hadn't escaped his notice when Frank put some of the salvaged food to the side instead of using it up first, before resorting to ketchup chasers and mustard water!

However, he trusted his brother implicitly, and decided to wait until Frank brought it up to give it much serious thought. Besides, he was sure their father would find them before then.

"We can dine like kings on salmon and chocolate on the return fli—"

Joe's voice broke off. _Uh oh_…he hadn't thought about that.

Their rescue would come by air.

Swallowing nervously, Joe sat back down on the edge of the pond, but didn't put the fishing line back in. He just stared at its crystal depths and tried not to think about it. But it was hard to do.

As much as he wanted to be rescued, he did not want to ever get back in a plane again!

He suddenly was overcome with a very strong desire to get back to the burrow.

"Frank?"

"hmmm."

"Frank!"

"Huh? W-what's wrong?"

"Can we go back now?"

A pause. A yawn.

"What time is it?"

"Don't know."

"What's wrong?"

"I just want to go back."

"Joe, are you okay?"

A longer pause.

"No."

Without saying anything else, Frank stood up, grabbed his parka and Joe's coat, the fish and nodded, "Okay little brother, let's go back."

Side by side the two brothers picked their way back across the barrens…while high overhead the unblinking eye watched their progress in silence.


	19. Chapter 19

**Cold Spell**

**Chapter 19**

Joe was unnaturally quiet on the walk back; a rarity for him and a reflection of his mood that didn't go unnoticed by his brother.

"Wanna talk about it?" Frank asked when they stopped to take a break. It was apparent that Joe's shoulder was bothering him more than he cared to admit, if his pale face and plainly evident weariness were any indicators, but Joe never once said anything about it. He just doggedly followed Frank and stopped only when Frank stopped.

But the older boy didn't think this was what was making his brother so quiet, though – there was something else.

Joe looked at him and sighed. He seemed to give it some thought and then shook his head. "No, not really."

"Okay," Frank said casually, not wanting to push, although his curiosity would have dictated otherwise. Joe would talk only when he was ready.

The wind was picking up again as the temperature dropped, and the younger boy shivered as it seemed to cut right through his jacket. He glanced over at his brother and toyed with the idea of telling him, but he was hesitant, not sure how Frank would react.

And then he sighed and just said, "I don't want to fly."

Frank started for a moment, a bit surprised that Joe changed his mind and said something, but not _about_ what he'd said. He had wondered if Joe realized yet that their rescue would come by helicopter….

"Oh," was all he could say for a moment, and then when he opened his mouth to tell him the usual stuff, he stopped. Joe didn't need to hear that it would be normal to be feeling like this or that he'd overcome this as he had before; and he wouldn't want Frank to try and convince him that he'd be okay, or remind him that there was no other choice….

Joe knew all that.

So Frank simply said, "That's understandable."

Joe's jaw dropped – that was the one thing he never expected his brother to say, in a million years! He was waiting for the usual logical explanations and platitudes…not this.

His surprise must have shown because he heard his brother chuckle softly. "Now there's a look I don't usually put on _your_ face…" he mused.

Recovering, Joe closed his mouth and gave his brother a strange look. "I… well, I was just expecting you to say something else."

"Like what?" Frank asked, although he already knew the answer. He glanced towards the burrow, estimating how much longer it was going to take them. The return trip seemed to be taking forever and he was anxious to get back, clean the fish and start roasting it over a fire…his mouth watered thinking about it.

_And his stomach_…he didn't even want to go there!

"Well…I didn't think you'd say it was stupid or anything. But I was kind of figuring I'd get the regular '_its-to-be-expected-but-you-have-no-choice_' mantra read to me."

"If you'd prefer—" Frank teased lightly, inwardly pleased that he'd read his brother right about what he needed to hear. He was usually good at figuring out what would help the younger boy, but sometimes Joe baffled him and he ended up out in left field. Thankfully this time wasn't one of them….

"No!" Joe cut him off with a playful punch. "I've already given myself enough grief over it for the both of us!"

"_Grief,_" Frank feigned indignation, "is that what my counsel is, little brother?"

Joe immediately sobered up. "_Never_. But mine usually is."

Frank thought about that for a moment and then sighed. "You never do give yourself enough credit."

"Excuse me?" Joe asked, caught off guard by the seeming out of place comment. They had started walking again and he began to give some serious thought to putting those socks on his hands – it seemed to be getting colder with each step!

_Did someone move the burrow?_

Frank walked at his side and was quiet for a few moments before he elaborated, "Joe, you got back in a plane two years ago…and you'll do it again now. It won't be easy…but you'll do it, 'cause that's just what you always do."

"Frank, I must be more tired than even I thought, because you're not making sense to me," Joe admitted as he paused and took out the socks to put on his hands.

The older boy smiled, stopping beside him. "Little brother, all I'm trying to say is that sometimes you do things that you don't want to do because there's no other choice. You've never let anything hold you back…not even your fears. And I'm proud of you for it."

Joe blushed, inwardly pleased by his brother's acknowledgment. He had oftentimes wondered if anyone realized how hard it was for him sometimes…but now he knew. Frank knew…. _And he was proud_….

"Thanks, big brother," he finally said, avoiding his brother's gaze, suddenly feeling a bit uncomfortable about this. While he and Frank were close, they didn't very often have these kinds of heart-to-heart talks.

The older boy didn't say anything, but he reached over and gave Joe's shoulder an affectionate squeeze, and they continued their walk in amicable silence.

"It _was_ pretty hard," Joe suddenly said right out of the blue, when they got back to the burrow. They stood outside, and he was watching Frank make another fire.

"What was?" Frank said, distractedly, as he ripped up pieces of the ruined Survival manual and placed it under the moss.

Joe didn't say anything for a moment as he stared out across the tundra, lost in thought and memories. Frank sat back on his heels and watched his brother, patiently waiting for the answer.

He coughed when he inadvertently inhaled a mouthful of smoke from the newly smoldering fire as the wind changed direction unexpectedly.

The sound of his coughing broke Joe's reverie. "Are you okay?"

"Y-yeah," Frank coughed, "S-moke."

The younger boy shook his head. "Then why don't you move away from it, silly!"

"Good…idea," his brother agreed and stood up, moving closer to him and further away from the fire. He wondered absently how long it would take the fish to cook….

"I was talking about getting back in a plane…" Joe admitted.

"Ah," Frank said, as his gaze wandered over the tundra now as well. He knew exactly what his brother was referring to, and gave a little shudder at how close they had come to losing both Joe and Jack Wayne that day….Frank was sixteen at the time.

Fenton had taken Frank and Joe, along with him and Jack, on a fishing trip to Alaska. Their father had rented a small remote cabin where the only way in was by floatplane.

They had been there for three days when a black bear had broken into the cabin and trashed it; including eating their food supplies and ruining what it didn't eat!

So it was decided that Jack would fly back to town for new supplies, and Joe would go with him, while Fenton and Frank would stay behind and clean up the mess. The younger boy had been pretty upset about the idea of a bear being around, so his father felt it was better for him to give Jack a hand than to stay behind….

They were gone for a couple of hours and the whole flight had been rather uneventful until they tried to land on the lake. The weather had become windy and the water on the lake was fairly choppy but Jack was an experienced pilot, so no one was too concerned about this little swell.

Fenton and Frank had come down to give them a hand to unload the supplies, and they saw a big problem - a submerged log – one of the biggest hazards to a floatplane!

Frank saw it first and tried to wave Jack off, but the pilot was too busy concentrating on landing, and didn't see his frantic hand signals!

Joe did, but by then it was too late!

The plane hit the log and nose-dived into the water as Frank and Fenton watched in horror, unable to do anything!

Immediately, they were racing to the end of the floating pier and had the small motor boat unmoored and speeding out to the rapidly submerging plane.

By the time they had gotten there, Jack was out of his seat and trying to get Joe out, but the boy was trapped by a jammed locking mechanism on his seat belt – and no one had a knife to cut through it!

Frank gave another shudder, remembering the look in his brother's eyes as they locked gazes for one moment, before Fenton was shouting at Jack to get Frank out of there!

He'd been sure he was going to watch his brother drown….

And then, suddenly, Joe was free and Fenton was pulling him out of the plane…!

"I still don't know how he did it," Frank said after a couple of minutes of silence.

"Did what?" Joe asked, turning back to look at his brother even as the tantalizing smell of cooking fish assaulted his nose.

"Got you out of that seat! Man, little brother, I thought for sure you were a goner." His voice shook slightly with that small admittance, and he felt Joe give his arm a squeeze.

"I don't know either," he admitted, "I remember him giving it a mighty yank and then I was free…" He paused and then added, "And so did I."

They stood quietly in an awkward pause and then Joe sighed and gave a wry smile. "But I did get back in a plane after that. And I can do it again, now.…I don't have to like it though."

Frank smiled, "Well if it makes you feel any better, I'll 'not like it' along with you."

Joe looked at his brother in surprise. "You're terrified too?"

"Not really terrified, I don't think," Frank said ruefully, "More 'concerned'. But we'll do this like we do everything else…" his voice trailed off and his brother finished for him.

"Together."


	20. Chapter 20

**Again, thank you for the kind reviews! They help feedmy souland inspire me to continue! And yes, I still have Shattered to finish, along with two other stories, under Mellon. However, the muses are a whimsical thing and I can only write what I am inspired to. The other stories are coming, however sometimes more pressing things come up and demand to be written first. My place is not to question why - but I always finish what I write, so please bare with me!**

**Cold Spell**

**Chapter 20**

"Frank?"

No answer.

"Frank?"

"Hmmm?"

"Frank!"

"W-what—"

"You asleep?"

A pause.

"Joe, please…don't tell me you woke me up to ask me if I was asleep…it'd be a shame for me to have to kill you now!"

No answer.

"Joe?"

"Never mind."

"What did you want?"

"I said never mind. Go back to sleep, Frank."

"JOE!"

"_WHAT_?"

"What did you wake me up for!"

"It really doesn't matter now does it? 'Cause no matter what the reason, you're all peeved off…and if you aren't, I am, now! So goodnight!"

"Joe?"

No answer.

"Joe?"

"I'm sleeping."

The morning of the eighth day didn't go much better.

Frank looked at his brother; the younger boy had just come out of the burrow and was rubbing his shoulder. "Joe?"

"What?"

"You wanna tell me why you woke me up last night."

"No."

"Why not?"

"'Cause it's really stupid and you're going to kill me when you find out."

"No, I'm not."

"You will."

"JOE! Will you just tell me?"

A pause.

"Joe?"

"Well…I was just going to ask you what you missed the most: coffee, pizza or Auntie's chocolate cake?"

A very _very _long pause.

"You're right, little brother."

"About what?"

"I would have killed you!"

The next three days were foggy and cold. And there was an air of dismalness that permeated through to the occupants of the old burrow, as they knew this would impede the search, taking away any faith they could have about being found during that time.

The brothers spent their time fishing, berry picking, moss gathering or hanging around, either in the burrow or just outside.

Joe preferred to stay outside once he actually got out, finding it cumbersome getting in and out of the entrance with his arm still in a sling. The entrance was large enough for them to use without much difficulty but they still had to crouch down or crawl.

They had also discovered that Frank was the better fisherman, with Joe's impatience and fidgeting making it difficult for him at the best of times.

The older boy found fishing to be very relaxing, and he looked forward to going down to the pond as the highlight of their never-ending day. By practicing some of the martial arts relaxation techniques his sensei had taught him, he could sit almost perfectly still for indefinite periods of time. And his patience paid off with at least one fish a day.

They'd come to the conclusion that fish weren't as plentiful as the arctic rumor would have you believe. Either that, or this was just a bad year!

On the eleventh day Frank had spent most of the morning rearranging the bits of plane wreckage that weren't still attached to the front end, to try and reconstruct some sort of more visible distress signal. They had already turned all the metal pieces shiny side up, to attract attention as the sun glinted off them, but now Frank wanted to make something more elaborate. He was figuring on a geometric shape, a triangle maybe….

More to keep himself occupied than anything else; and to keep his mind off that stupid magazine he knew Joe was still poring over.

The sound of coughing drew his attention back to his brother as Joe slowly made his way out of the burrow.

"You okay?" the older boy asked, instantly becoming worried.

"Yeah," Joe said, gingerly standing up and then letting out a weary sigh when he saw how foggy it still was, "I was kind of hoping the weather would be better today."

"Me too," Frank admitted, eyeing his brother carefully. _Did he look a bit paler this morning than before? _"Are you sure you're all right?"

Joe sighed again, knowing that his brother's over-protectiveness was part of his residual concern over the rabies. He wished he could do something to finally shove that remaining doubt away from his older brother. They had enough real concerns without Frank stressing over phantom ones!

_And people think I'm stubborn_, he mused to himself even as he fixed his brother with a wry smile. "I don't have rabies."

"I-I never said you did!" Frank managed with a fair amount of indignity, although it was quite clear Joe's response had taken him off guard.

"No, you didn't. But now you're thinking my coughing is a symptom and if you're overactive imagination doesn't already have me foaming at the mouth, then I'd be surprised!" Joe shot back, and then grimaced, his voice contrite over his previous tone and choice of words. "Sorry, I didn't mean to sound so harsh."

Frank scowled but didn't say anything for a moment.

"I just don't want you wasting any more time thinking about it. I'm fine. Yes, I was coughing; I think I'm coming down with a cold—"

"There's no one here for you to catch anything from, except me," Frank pointed out quickly, "and I'm not sick!"

"True," Joe conceded, "However, Erik was sick before we left, and who knows how long the gestation period is for what he had!"

Frank pursed his lips – _Major Fields' son had had a nasty cold the last two days they were there…._

"Fine," he finally said, deciding to drop this for now, "But I don't have an overactive imagination."

"Do too."

"Don't.

"Do too!"

"Don't!"

"Do too!"

"Joe! Give it up! I don't…and that's that!"

"Whatever you say, big brother." Joe started to walk away from his brother even as he finished, "Not only active, _apparently_, but deluded as well!"

It was a good thing that Joe got a head start….

"Coffee," Frank said out of the blue later that night, after the brothers had settled down to try and get some sleep.

"What?" Joe's voice sounded half asleep already.

"Coffee," he repeated. "You wanted to know what I missed the most…Well, it's coffee."

Frank thought Joe had fallen asleep and was just closing his eyes himself when he heard a soft voice. "Pizza."

"_Pizza_?" Frank echoed with a smile. He was a bit surprised about that, as Joe was the family chocoholic, and he was sure his sweet tooth was craving cake. He'd seen the yearning look on his brother's face whenever he saw the unopened box of chocolates.

"Yeah." Joe's voice reached his ears, quiet and a bit melancholy. "But I don't think it's the actual pizza I'm missing…as much as the people who come with it."

Frank felt his breath catch in his throat, knowing exactly what Joe was talking about. Mr. Pizza's…the gang…the feelings of camaraderie and of belonging that were shared as easily as the slices served up hot and delicious….

"I change my mind," he whispered.

"Hmmm?" Joe was almost asleep.

"I think I miss pizza the most as well…"

In the dark, one brother's hand reached across and grasped the other's….They held tight for a moment before each retreated back to its own warmth.

And in the morning, the first thing Frank did was open the box of chocolates….


	21. Chapter 21

**Cold Spell**

**Chapter 21**

Joe woke up shivering. _Damn, it was cold_….It seemed that every night it was getting just a bit colder, and the blond teen knew that was an indication of the rapidly approaching autumn; if the tundra even had an autumn, that is. He wasn't sure; maybe it just went from being cold to being _unbearably_ cold with no in-between.

Glancing down at his watch he saw it was 3:45 in the morning and stifled a groan, trying to find a more comfortable sleeping position than the one he was in. Although, with a stuffed nose, and a dull ache in his shoulder, he was doubtful that he'd be getting any more sleep tonight!

Next to him, he could hear Frank's soft snores and knew his brother wasn't finding it as difficult to sleep, right now, as he was. But that was probably due in part, to the fact that he didn't have a cold or a pesky shoulder to try and compensate for, either!

Joe was glad, though, that Frank was finally getting some good sleep and didn't begrudge him his rest. His brother had been pushing himself even harder than usual after Joe got injured, and he felt guilty about that, having seen exhaustion shadowing the older boy too often in the past few days.

Shivering again, Joe reached down to pull up some of the clothing he was using for 'blankets'. A jumble of sweaters and pants had collected around his knees, leaving his torso warmed by only his jacket.

He actually had the majority of coverings as Frank slept in his parka, with the hood pulled up. But the older boy still had a couple of shirts draped across his legs and feet.

_Not all messed up like mine_, Joe noticed before realizing there might have been another reason why he woke up.

_Oh man_, he groaned to himself. Now he'd have no choice but to get up!

Slowly, he pushed the coverings off and sat up. Carefully, so as not to jar his arm, the boy crawled towards the burrow entrance and then outside. It was easier for him to crawl than crouch, as the bound arm threw him off balance. He moved slowly to keep from waking up his brother, knowing that Frank was a much lighter sleeper than he was.

Once outside, he straightened up and then moved to the area behind the plane they'd designated for its own 'special' purpose.

When he finished, Joe stood there for a while, looking around and not relishing the return trip back to his 'bed' yet.

It was odd for it to be so early in the morning, and yet look as it did in the afternoon, and the blond youth wasn't sure it was something he could ever get used to. Not that he wanted to be here long enough to do so.

And then he noticed something else – the fog was gone! It was a beautiful, bright morning!

_Maybe Dad'll find us today_, Joe thought hopefully. It had been thirteen days now since they crashed, but his optimism hadn't waned. Maybe it was because he'd been in enough situations in the past to have an unwavering belief in his search party; they had always found him before, and he had no reason to believe this time would be any different.

Joe thought about his brother and wished he could do something to pass on this conviction, but he didn't know what.

He figured Frank didn't have this unfaltering faith probably because he was usually a searcher…not a searchee - _if that was even a word!_

And then there was also that irrefutable logic.

But sometimes you just had to go by your gut, and Joe's gut was telling him they'd be found…soon.

The boy stood there for another ten minutes, quiet and thoughtful as he watched the world around him. He was just deciding to go back inside when he heard a soft snort.

Startled he whipped around and then froze. Walking about a hundred feet behind him was a small group of caribou, and he was amazed by how quietly they moved.

The large elk-like animals were slowly moving across the tundra and if they noticed him, they didn't seem very worried about him.

_Probably 'cause they know they could trample me without much fuss_, he thought. But even so, he remained still, awed by these large northern creatures.

The animals grazed as they moved, and Joe found himself transfixed watching them. His thoughts turned absently to Pup and the small starving pack, and he wondered how they were doing.

Without even realizing it, Joe started to follow the small herd, curious as to where they were going. A couple of the large herbivores cast a glance at him but didn't do anything else.

Joe followed them for a while and then stopped. He didn't really want to go very far from the burrow, not caring to get lectured if Frank found out or something happened.

He was just headed back when he saw a movement out of the corner of his eye and he turned around, curiosity mingling with fear.

It was the old alpha wolf!

Frank awoke with a start but had no idea what had awakened him.

After he sat up, it took his eyes a moment to adjust to the semi-gloom of the burrow and then he glanced over and saw Joe's empty 'bed.'

"Joe?" he called out, even as he glanced at the time. Not hearing any response, and with a growing sense of unease, he quickly moved across the burrow and out of the door, calling out again as he did.

"Joe!"

And then he relaxed as he saw his brother standing with his back to the burrow a couple hundred feet away.

Unconsciously Joe's good hand reached towards the bite and he felt his heart start to pound as he remembered the attack…but the wolf didn't seem interested in him at all, this time.

The canid was trailing the caribou herd with apparently grand ambitions, since it was a task for a _pack_ of wolves to bring one of the larger animals down, let alone a single wolf dealing with a seemingly healthy herd.

Wolves preferred to target the young or weak caribou.

As he watched, the wolf paused to get a quick drink at a nearby pool of water, and then continued to slink after the herd. Joe started as he watched the wolf, and then a small smile played across his lips and he let out a sigh of relief.

"_Joe?"_ The sound of his brother's voice made him jump. He'd been so engrossed in watching the caribou and then the wolf, that he hadn't heard Frank calling him or coming up behind him!

"You ok—oomph!" Frank had started to ask, concern etched on his face, when without warning, Joe turned around and grabbed him in a tight hug with his good arm.

"It's okay, Frank!" Joe was saying, his voice muffled against the older boy's shoulder. "It's really okay!"

A bit shaken by this unexpected outburst, Frank pulled away enough to look at his brother. "Joe? What's wrong?"

Joe was smiling, as his eyes shone brightly. Letting go of Frank, he turned and pointed towards the caribou herd.

"Look Frank!" he said, clearly very excited, "Look!"

Frank squinted his eyes and then looked at his brother, growing more worried with each passing moment – _what the heck was going on with Joe?_

"Okay…" he said slowly, wondering why a herd of caribou had stirred his brother up like this. He looked back at the younger boy. "I see caribou—"

"Not the caribou!" Joe admonished him, his tone impatient now as he was worried the wolf would disappear before Frank saw it. "The wolf, Frank! The wolf! Look!"

Startled, Frank whipped his head back toward the herd; saw the wolf and recognized it immediately as the one which had bitten Joe!

For a moment he thought the wolves were back, but then relaxed once he saw the single wolf was not interested in them at all!

Turning back to his brother again, and taking in his beaming face, Frank knew he was missing something.

"Little brother, you're going to have to clue me in on this…" he admitted, stifling a yawn, "it's kind of early, you know."

"I don't have rabies," Joe put it simply.

The older teen shook his head, confused. "I thought we'd already had this conversation, a couple of times now—"

Joe cut him off. "But now I have proof! Good old logical, irrefutable proof! Just the kind you love!" he continued, not giving Frank a chance to say anything and counting his points off on his fingers as he did so…Which didn't take long, as he only had two points to make!

"First, did you know that rabies is also called hydrophobia because any animal infected with it becomes deathly afraid of water? Well that old wolf was drinking, Frank – he wasn't afraid. Not in the slightest! And secondly…" he caught his brother's eye, his own so vibrant blue Frank was sure they were glowing, "it's been ten days since I was bitten and _he's_ still alive…" his voice trailed off as he waited for his brother to make the connection…

And he did!

Frank's face transformed as the words sunk in and then it was his turn to grab his brother and give him a tight hug; quickly releasing him and apologizing when Joe gasped in pain, his injured shoulder having been forgotten for a moment.

He turned back to look at the wolf again, all the while keeping one arm around the younger boy. His relief was limitless and as if to punctuate the realization, the wolf stopped for another drink of water as Frank watched.

That wolf didn't have rabies which meant Joe didn't have rabies!

For Frank knew as well as Joe did, that any animal that was infected, died within ten days of showing the first symptom….And Joe had been bitten ten days ago!

The older boy was lightheaded with relief. He hadn't realized the weight of carrying even the slight worry until it had been completely removed.

And although he had no idea what his brother was doing up and around at this forsaken hour, whatever it was, Frank was truly grateful for it.

Now… if only they could get rescued…


	22. Chapter 22

**_CALEB: indignantly That's IT? Man, this chapter was SHORT. Must you insistently bore us with chapters like these until they get rescued? _**

**Hmmm… it is probably a good thing than that you don't sign my paycheques, Caleb. Oh wait – I forgot – I don't get paid for doing this… Phoenix**

**:O**

**Cold Spell**

**Chapter 22**

"I really wish you wouldn't spend so much looking at that." Frank's voice startled Joe out of his thoughts.

The brothers had gotten back from a depressingly unsuccessful fishing trip almost an hour ago, and while Frank spent his time poking around the fire, Joe had pulled out the detective magazine and was staring at the cover, again.

The younger boy knew it bothered his brother but he couldn't help it. All day he'd been thinking about his father, and when they got back he _needed_ to see his face.

"I'm sorry," Joe muttered absently, as he wished he had a picture of their mom, too.

"No, you're not," Frank's voice sounded irritated, and Joe looked up at his brother, surprised a bit, as he'd thought they'd come to some understanding over the photo. But then, he amended, they had never finished _that_ conversation….

The dark-haired boy crouched down by the fire again, and Joe took an appraisingly look at him as Frank poked at the smoldering pit with a longish piece of arctic willow.

The older boy had a perpetual tiredness about him, _probably a mixture of stress and fatigue_, Joe speculated, as dark circles under his eyes and the forecast of a five o'clock shadow gave him a haunted, almost surreal look.

His face was thinner, gaunt against dark eyes that appeared sharply in contrast to his pale face.

_He's lost weight_, Joe thought, surprised, but then glancing down at how loosely his own clothes were fitting, he realized, _but then again, so have I._

Almost two weeks of meager meals and physical activity were eating their bodies' reserves; and while they weren't actually _starving_, they weren't really that far off.

Joe wondered if his own countenance was as grim.

He sighed, "I wouldn't have said it if I didn't mean it."

Frank looked at him. "Yes, you would have. You say things all the time that you don't mean." His tone wasn't bitter or irritated this time, more defeated than anything else…or maybe just exhausted.

"That's not fair," Joe retorted, although he didn't really have the energy to get upset. The trip to and from the fishing pond always took the good out of him, a further testimony to how weak he'd become since the crash. "So do you."

The muscle in Frank's jaw twitched and then relaxed as he let out a weary sigh and shrugged. "Yeah, I guess we both do, don't we?"

"I understand that you're not comfortable looking at Dad's picture…" Joe started, "but it's not fair for you to tell me I shouldn't, just because you can't."

The older boy pursed his lips and appeared to give it some thought. In truth, he was just trying to figure out how to word this without it turning into a full-blown argument. Like Joe, he didn't have the energy to go another round of Hardy versus Hardy. Finally he just decided to be blunt, tact took too much work right now. "It isn't healthy."

"For who?" Joe asked; his eyes narrowed shrewdly, "Me or you?"

That caught Frank by surprise and Joe couldn't help but smile and shake his head. "Oh, big brother. It isn't any more unhealthy than looking at you. It's just different."

Frank cocked his head to the side and screwed up his face, remnants of an almost-forgotten conversation filtered back to him….

_It's just eerie…looking at the picture, seeing him but not seeing him…it's hard to explain…._

…_Maybe it doesn't bother me like that, because I'm used to seeing things that way…._

"What did you mean?" Frank asked suddenly.

"What?"

"When you said that looking at a picture of Dad – seeing him but not seeing him – didn't bother you because you're used to it? What did you mean?" Frank's face was curious. And his curiosity grew as he realized Joe had deliberately side-tracked him out of this conversation the last time.

"Oh that." Joe blushed and turned away, suddenly finding the corner of the cover very interesting as he curled it around his finger.

"Yeah that. Maybe if you told me, it wouldn't bother me so much whenever I see you looking at the photo," Frank admitted.

Joe sighed, and chewed his lip. And then he said, "'Cause I look at you and I see Dad…that's what I meant. So what difference does seeing him in a picture make?" His voice, almost a whisper, sounded loud around them.

Frank was stunned and just stared open-mouthed at his brother for a few moments. Yes, he knew that he looked a lot like their father but it had never really occurred to him before that when Joe looked at him, that he ever saw Fenton Hardy. And he wasn't sure how he felt about that…or even how he was supposed to feel.

The younger boy waited for his brother to say something. And then when he couldn't take the silence for another minute longer, he said, "I'm sorry, Frank."

Breaking through his shock, Frank moved next to Joe and sat down beside him. He looked over at the picture and then held out his hand. Joe gave him the magazine.

Frank stared at it for a long time but still didn't say anything. And when Joe opened his mouth to apologize again, unnerved by his brother's reaction to his confession, the older boy stopped him.

"It's okay, Joe. I guess I never really thought about it like that before," he said softly. "I mean, I know I look like Dad, hardly a new acquaintance goes by without mentioning it…but I guess I never really realized before how difficult it must be for you sometimes to see it all the time. Especially when you're mad at him or…or now…"

Joe looked at his brother, his turn to be shocked, but recovering quickly, he refuted vehemently, "Oh God no, Frank! It's never been difficult for me to look at you! Oh you silly…silly…person! Don't you get it yet?"

Frank shook his head, unsure of what he was supposed to get, except a headache from trying to keep up with this conversation.

"Yes, I see Dad in you, that's pretty obvious, just as I'm sure you see Mom in me—"

Frank nodded his head; he did see a lot of Laura Hardy in his brother, especially in certain facial expressions. Joe continued.

"But this has nothing to do with that! I'm just trying to tell you that I can gain some comfort from his picture because I can _look_ at it and see faith and confidence in our being all right, and then…" he looked at his brother, his eyes suspiciously bright and he reached out and touched his arm, "and then I can _touch_ you…and feel it."

The older boy blinked hard, overcome with such strong feelings for his younger brother that he felt staggered, and he placed his mittened hand over Joe's colder one, as he said, his voice hoarse with emotion, "Thanks, little brother…."

Joe gave the hand he held another little squeeze and they sat together for a little while, in an amicable silence, and then Frank sighed, "I…I think my nerves are shot to all bloody hell."

"Probably," Joe admitted with a small smile. "You really don't do well with helplessness."

"Hey," the older boy scolded lightly, "that's your job. You're the impetuous one…the one with a fidgety bottom!"

Joe gave a little snort and then grinned, "True, but I'm used to feeling helpless!"

"Oh little brother," Frank laughed, "you are _anything_ but helpless…even if you've just left yourself so wide open it's not even worth me saying anything!" As he felt Joe squeeze his hand a bit tighter, he added, "And where are your socks? Your hands are freezing! You've got a cold – do you really want pneumonia?"

The blond teen grinned even as he fished out the pair of socks he was using as mittens, having forgotten about them until Frank mentioned them. "You know as well as I do, weather has nothing to do with pneumonia – it's a viral infection of the lungs!"

"That sounds like the voice of experience speaking," Frank teased, glad to feel the tone lightening up; and even more surprised to see that his own mood was, as well.

"Well as a matter of fact," Joe boasted, "I've been known to have had a case or two in my time."

"_Five times,_ kiddo! You've had pneumonia five times in seventeen years! Dr. Bates says you've set your own best personal record among his patients!"

Joe scowled, but its effectiveness was lost by the mischievous glint in his eyes. He gave up and laughed. "Okay, so I might have outdone myself on that—"

Frank laughed, as he cut his brother off. "You '_might have_ _outdone yourself on that.' K_iddo, I think you outdo yourself on everything!"

The younger boy shrugged. "Do you want me to change?"

His brother smiled affectionately at him. "Never."

"Cool," Joe said, inwardly relieved – that question had set him up pretty badly. He trusted the answer his brother would give, but still it had scared him just a bit. That's a lot of power to give someone…asking them if they would want you to change.

"In that case," Joe continued, "why don't you go lie down for a bit, you look tired. I know how taxing fishing can be."

As if on cue, Frank stifled a yawn and ignored the tease. "I need to make us some supper first."

Joe stood up and extended his good hand to pull his brother up. "I can make us something."

Frank feigned shock, and Joe swatted him lightly across the top of the head even as he shooed him towards the burrow entrance. "Come on, with what I've got to work with, how the heck can I possibly screw it up?"

"Oh I don't know, little brother," Frank said, pulling back one of the door flaps and crouching down. "Surprise me."

The younger boy stuck his tongue out at his retreating brother before he turned back and looked at the fire.

"Okay, let's get this straight right now," he quipped, eyeing the 'stove,' "You give me any trouble and I'll be forced to exterminate you with _extreme prejudice_…. I know where the water bowl is and I ain't afraid to use it!"

From inside the burrow he heard his brother's laughter and he smiled to himself.

_Mission accomplished_.

Bending down to scoop up the detective magazine from where it had fallen, Joe looked at the picture once again and then tossed it into the fire.

He didn't need it anymore.


	23. Chapter 23

**Cold Spell**

**Chapter 23**

The sound of coughing woke Frank up the next morning. He'd heard the younger boy off and on during the night, but there was nothing he could do except offer his sympathy, which he did.

"How you feeling?" he asked when Joe stopped, and he heard him give a little groan.

"Marvelous," came the sardonic reply, and then he heard Joe sigh, "My nose is stuffed; my head hurts; I got this horrible gunk running down the back of my throat, making me cough…remind me to send a thank-you card to Erik when we get back!"

Frank turned on his side so he could see his brother's face. Even in the gloom he could see how pale he was. "How's the shoulder?'"

"Oh it's loving it…especially when I cough," came a miserable reply.

"Poor kiddo," Frank said sympathetically, "why don't you stay put for a while and I'll get us something to eat." He sat up as he spoke.

It was early, but he was hoping to get down to the pond as soon as possible with the hopes of catching something more appetizing than the protein bar, ketchup soup and piece of chocolate Joe had made them last night!

The younger boy admitted he'd been tempted to open Sam's salmon, but decided to hold off. They might need it more, later on. And unfortunately, Frank had to agree.

But Joe shook his head. "Actually bro, I'm not feeling very hungry."

"You have to eat something, Joe," Frank said.

"I know," Joe admitted, "but I don't _feel_ like eating anything."

Frank regarded the younger boy for a moment and then offered, "Why don't I boil a couple of those chocolates in the water and you can have a hot chocolate? It will at least be something."

Joe thought about that for a moment and then nodded. "Okay. Maybe it'll help clear my nose, if nothing else."

Getting up, Frank patted his brother's leg and then crawled out of the burrow.

Standing up when he got outside, he stretched and yawned. Another morning, just like the one yesterday….

After taking care of his own immediate needs, Frank set about making his brother a 'hot chocolate,' pausing briefly before lifting the lid off the box of chocolates. They really needed to use them sparingly but he wasn't sure if Joe would have tried anything else, and neither one of them could afford to miss a 'meal.'

The older boy had bought the chocolates for Callie while they were at the airport. It was a last minute spontaneous gift, but as soon as he saw the little seal shapes, he was sold. Callie had a soft spot for baby seals….

"No choice Cal," he said softly, knowing his girlfriend would be furious with him if she found out that they didn't eat the chocolates, because of some misguided sense of sentiment. Survival was survival!

_And_ he had already bought her a nice hand-knit red cardigan that he knew she'd love. It, along with the earrings Joe had bought for Vanessa, had been placed somewhere special, so they'd still have them to give the girls when they got home.

Frank was just lifting the pot of thin brown liquid from the fire when his keen hearing picked up a sound. He froze, straining his hearing as far as he could.

And then dropped the pot and was scrambling back into the burrow!

He would recognize that sound anywhere – it was a helicopter!

"JOE!" he shouted, startling the younger boy, "Where's the flare gun?"

Stunned, Joe just looked at him for a moment, and then Frank's words sunk in and he was rushing to get out of the 'bed'. "Bottom of the orange knapsack! There!"

Frank's hands were shaking as he tried to rip open the knapsack, and he could hear his heart pounding so loudly he was half expecting Joe to say something.

"HERE!" Joe said, pushing Frank out of the way as he deftly opened the knapsack and pulled out the gun. Ignoring the pain in his shoulder, he used both hands to quickly load the gun, and then Frank was hurrying back out of the burrow with it, as Joe followed close behind!

"HURRY FRANK, HURRY!" Joe yelled as his brother started running towards a small rise – the closest thing to 'high ground' anywhere near them. The younger boy scrambled after him, tripped and fell hard, crying out in pain as he landed on his injured side.

Hearing the sharp cry, Frank turned back, but Joe waved him on. "GO! GO!"

The older boy paused for a half a moment and then continued his mad race!

Cresting the incline, he raised the flare gun high over his head and squeezed the trigger! Immediately a smoky red signal streaked into the sky as, at the same time, Frank got his first glimpse of the helicopter.

"_Please see it…please see it,"_ he chanted, even as he jammed a second flare into the gun, pointed it up and fired again!

His heart stopped, each second drawn out an eternity as he watched and waited for some sign that the pilot had seen.

_Please see it…please see…_

And then the helicopter made a strange dip and was coming directly towards him! They'd been seen!

"THEY SEE IT! THEY SEE IT!" and then just to remove all trace of doubt, Frank fired the third flare….

Joe lay on his back and watched the smoking streak of the flare. He heard his brother shouting, picked out what he was saying, and let out a relieved sigh.

Tears of relief burned his face – _they'd been found_.

Moments later he heard the sound of pounding feet, before his brother crouched down beside him, his exuberant face marred by concern, as he was breathing hard from the exertion of the mad race and ensuing excitement of being found.

"You okay?" Frank asked as he helped Joe sit up, and the younger boy grinned – no pain in his shoulder could come close to damping how good he felt right now!

"We're going home!" was all Joe said. Frank pulled him to his feet and then gave him a big hug; his face lit up, all trace of weariness erased.

"That we are, kid brother…that we are!"

The brothers stood side by side and watched the helicopter as it started to land. It reminded them more of a big yellow school bus with tandem rotors – one forward and one aft with each rotor having three blades – and a large bright red fuel tank on either side of the aircraft.

Very distinctly a Labrador helicopter!

Joe closed his eyes and repressed a shudder as he felt the air on his face from the swirling blades. His brother's grip on his shoulder tightened for just a moment, as Frank knew what he was thinking…and worrying about.

"It's okay, little brother," he said, making his voice heard above the sound of the landing helicopter. "Just remember…we're in this together!"

And then the helicopter touched down, and moments later a door on the side opened and three men jumped out. Two were SAR TECHS (Search and Rescue technicians) but they weren't the ones the boys were paying attention to…it was the third man.

Joe beamed up at his brother for a moment and Frank just shook his head….They'd know that man anywhere!

Tall, with dark hair and dark eyes, it was Fenton Hardy who reached the boys first and he never said anything. Just grabbed them both in a bear hug and refused to let go.

The older boy wasn't sure, but he thought his father was crying….

Frank kept a tight grip on his brother's hand as the helicopter lifted off. He could feel the trembling and knew Joe was finding this very hard, but even so he didn't say anything.

Their father was sitting between them, with one arm wrapped protectively around each of his sons, so Frank had to lean forward to actually see his brother's face. And just as he thought, Joe had his eyes squeezed shut and his breathing was quick and nervous.

But as if sensing his brother was watching him, Joe managed to open his eyes long enough to give him a weak smile, and Frank squeezed his hand, wordlessly offering his support and felt a thankful little squeeze back.

Then Joe closed his eyes again and nestled in closer against his father, seeking reassurance from the contact. Wordlessly, Fenton tightened his grip, and Frank smiled – Joe'd be okay, they both would….

Letting out a weary sigh, Frank glanced out one of the windows and watched as the endless miles of tundra stretched beneath them. He was awestruck at its size and desolation and realized just how lucky they were to have been found.

A flash of movement caught his attention, and he saw a small pack of wolves running full out across the barrens beneath him. The older teen gave a fond smile as he recognized the large silvery wolf in the forefront _– it was Joe's wolf. His Pup_….

He started to point it out to Joe, but then stopped when the relaxed grip on his hand told him his brother had fallen asleep, and he was reluctant to take that peace from him. So he didn't.

Instead, he would tell him about it when they got home….

_When they got home_. No longer 'if' but 'when,'

Closing his eyes, Frank finally gave in to the tug of exhaustion as the steady hum of the engine lulled the boy to sleep.

It was finally over.

After fourteen days and thirteen nights, the Hardy brothers were going home.

_The End_

**I want to say Thank you to everyone for reading, and I know that many of you wanted to see the actual reunion between the brothers and their friends, however this story was about them - and just them. I wanted to give the reader the feeling of just how isolated they were and so I chose to do it this way. You can all use your imaginations about what might have happened when they did finally get back to Bayport. I gave you their reunion with Fenton... anything else would have just been overwriting it :).**

**Phoenix**


End file.
